Is Community the New Purity Culture?

For an internet moment, a cry against the so-called “Purity Culture” rose with vehemence, at least on the part of the web I tend to visit. Blogs and podcasts featured guests, many of whom were women, speaking of the shame and shattered hopes left in the movement’s wake. If you are not familiar with this movement, I offer a brief history.

The movement rose in the 80’s and perhaps peaked in the 90’s in response to what many prominent evangelicals saw as the breakdown of society due to the sexual revolution which began in the 60’s. “True Love Waits” (to have sex until marriage) defines its basic premise. Now this idea isn’t bad in itself, especially considering some of the pressing issues of that day. For example, AIDS began to devastate society, having broken into unexpected territories, and no one seemed safe. Even blood transfusions could kill you. Not only that, but no fault divorce had become an option for what many saw as an easy escape from marital vows. The future of what many believed to be the basic building blocks of society, the nuclear family, seemed bleak.

Purity Culture, in some ways, looks like a reasonable response to a society in pain. Broken families, hurting children, a horrific disease…I get it. But the “promise” given when one slipped the “promise ring” on their finger was that your life will be deeply satisfying if you do things God’s way. You will be healthy, have a fantastic marriage filled with great sex, have happy and successful children, and so on. 

However, this was not the case. My generation quickly became robbed of this illusionary future. Now, anger seethes as unfulfilled promises cause countless adults to question the validity of any promises at all. Even God’s. 

This is what happens when marketing strategies are co-opted by prominent voices rising within Christian institutions.

What do I mean by marketing strategies? Good advertisers appeal to the basic desires and fears that drive human beings and work to convince them that their product will meet these desires and protect you from all that you fear. As I write this, images of thousands of commercials flash through my mind. From food products to medication, the world has offered me endless bliss through what businesses can provide if I buy into their product.

Sadly, I think I’m seeing hints of the same disillusionment with the promise of “community.” 

When prominent voices rise within the church making promises to meet basic desires and shield you from all you fear, this is a marketing ploy. It comes with promises of “better.” Just as purity culture promised us better sex, better marriages, better children, the push to “find community” has been held out to us as an offer of better friendships, more gospel-centered conversations, and a safe place to be vulnerable and authentic (two of my least favorite buzz-words these days). Want a better life? Find a church and get into Christian community! 

Please don’t hear me say that community (or sexual self-control) are bad things because they don’t bring about what had been promised to you. I believe community is a common grace. By common grace, I mean that it is given to all people; it is a common human experience. I have experienced the joy and warmth of community in many places. It is like the rain that falls on the righteous and the wicked.  

Just like “purity culture,” “community” works really well for some people. It truly does, and I’m grateful. But again, consider that these goods might be common graces. Self-control and community are human goods and useful in any and all circumstances. “Church community” doesn’t corner the market.

There are many threads I could follow but the one I want to pull on here is suffering. All of the promises marketed to me have certainly formed me to want better things. But I have not been formed to suffer well.

Purity culture failed to teach young men and women how to suffer well in a marriage between two broken people. Likewise, no one taught me how hard it would be to suffer the scorn of the church community that I had been promised would fill my desires and quell my fears. At the crossroads of disillusionment and unbelief, I could easily take up arms in anger against the church.

Or I could weep with her. 

Dear, beloved Bride of Christ! We have not taught you to suffer well. We’ve served you false promises and failed to feed you the broken body and spilled blood of the suffering Savior. I’m so, so sorry. 

“Gracious Lord. Please, teach me to suffer well, knowing that I suffer with you for the sake of Your body, Your beloved Bride.”