Robert Obach - The Catholic Church On Marital Intercourse - From St. Paul To Pope John Paul II (2008, Lexington Books) PDF

The Catholic
Church on Marital
Intercourse
The Catholic
Church on Marital
Intercourse
From St. Paul to
Pope John Paul II
Robert Obach
LEXINGTON BOOKS
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British Library Cataloguing in Publication Information Available
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Obach, Robert E.
The Catholic Church on marital intercourse : from St. Paul to Pope John Paul II /
Robert Obach.
p. cm.
Includes index.
ISBN-13: 978-0-7391-3087-2 (cloth : alk. paper)
ISBN-10: 0-7391-3087-0 (cloth : alk. paper)
ISBN-13: 978-0-7391-3089-6 (electronic)
ISBN-10: 0-7391-3089-7 (electronic)
1. Sex—Religious aspects—Catholic Church—History of doctrines. 2. Marriage—
Religious aspects—Catholic Church—History of doctrines. 3. Catholic Church—
Doctrines—History. I. Title.
BX1795.S48O23 2009
241'.66—dc22 2008035485
™ The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of American
National Standard for Information Sciences—Permanence of Paper for Printed Library
Materials, ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992.
Contents
Preface vii
Acknowledgments ix
Introduction 1
1 Biblical Approaches to Marital Sexuality 5
2 St. Paul’s Unwitting Contributions to the Church’s

Negative Thinking on Marital Intercourse 9
3 Early Church Leaders Defend Marriage Against

Gnostic Attacks 17
4 Augustine: The Man Who Carved in Stone the Church’s

Conditional Acceptance of Marital Intercourse 29
5 Monks, Theologians, Bishops, and Popes Disparage

Marital Intercourse 51
6 The Law of Clerical Celibacy Embodies the Bias Against

Marital Intimacy 61
7 Canon Law Sees Nothing Spiritual in Marital Intimacy 69
8 Marriage Recognized as a Sacrament 77
v
vi Contents
9 St. Thomas Aquinas: Modifications and Qualifications 83
10 Some Attempts to See Other Values in Marital Intercourse 93
11 The Council of Trent: Motives for Marrying and Motives for

Abstaining from Marital Intercourse 99
12 A New Development: Spousal “Affection” Related to “Love” 105
13 Confessing Sins Related to Sexual Activity 113
14 Pope, Bishops, Theologians, and Canon Law Stress

Procreation as the Primary Purpose of Marriage 119
15 A New Vision: Love Related to Marital Intercourse 125
16 The Teaching of Pope Pius XI: Procreation or Abstinence 131
17 A Rejected Perspective: Bodily Union as the “Direct Purpose”

of Marital Intercourse 139
18 The Break with St. Augustine: Pope Pius XII Accepts the
Rhythm Method 147
19 The Effects of Papal Teaching: Frustration and Tears 155
20 The Second Vatican Council (1962–1965) Recognizes the

Value of Marital Love 163
21 The Postconciliar Work of the “Birth Control Commission”

and Its Culmination in Humanae Vitae 175
22 Pope John Paul II: Old Assertions and New Perceptions 189
23 Conscience and Fidelity to Church Teaching 205
Epilogue 213
Index 217
Preface
Why are things the way they are? Why has so much of western Christianity’s
teaching overlooked the biblical assertion that marital intercourse is one of
God’s blessings?
In Betty Smith’s classic novel, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Francie Nolan
begins her diary on her thirteenth birthday. Eleven months later she writes:
“Sex is something that invariably comes into everyone’s life.”1 Noting that
“all the girls in school have but the one topic of conversation, sex and boys,”
Francie concludes: “They are very curious about it.” She then writes: “Am
I curious about sex?” Then, crossing out that question, she writes: “I am
curious.”2
When Francie is older she asks her mother, Katie Nolan, for an explana-
tion of sex. So Katie tells her daughter “simply and plainly all that she herself
knew. There were times in the telling when Katie had to use words which
were considered dirty but she used them bravely and unflinchingly because
she knew no other words. . . . In spite of the blunt words and homely phrasing,
there was nothing revolting in Katie’s explanations.”3 This scene concludes
with the observation that Francie “never needed to slink into dark hallways
with other girls and exchange guilty confidences. She never had to learn things
in a distorted way.”4
But what was said about Francie’s mother cannot be said of “Mother
Church.” It could be said that sexuality had been presented in a distorted way
during most of western Christianity’s history. The vast majority of church
leaders saw nothing spiritual in the marital act. They regarded sexual pleasure
as sinful because it was seen as the result of Adam and Eve’s sin. Even desir-
ing marital intimacy was perceived as a temptation that endangered one’s sal-
vation. It can be said that through most of her history the prevailing attitude of
vii
viii Preface
Mother Church has been an attitude of semi-rejection, or, at best, an attitude

of partial acceptance of human sexual dynamics. The Catholic Church on
Marital Intercourse looks at the history of how church leaders developed that
attitude of distrust and suspicion and how church leaders and theologians are
now discovering that there is a deep spirituality in marital sexuality.
NOTES
1. Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (New York: Perennial Library Edition,
1968; Harper & Row Publishers, 1943, 1937), 217.
2. Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, 217–18.
3. Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, 219.
Acknowledgments
I am grateful to friends and mentors who both inspired and encouraged

me through those years I have worked on this book. They are Rev. Roger
Balducelli; Raymond Berthiaume; Rev. Lawrence Boadt; Carol Ann Can-
non, M.A.; Roy Carlisle; Ned Cuddy, Ph.D.; Dennis Doyle, Ph.D.; Rev.
Robert Erickson, C.S.V.; John Feister, M.A.; Rev. Tom Gaeke; Rev. Joseph
Goetz; Luis Gonzalez, Ph.D.; Rev. Robert Hater; Brendan Hill, Ph.D.; Trudy
Krisher, M.A.; John McIntire; Dottie Mohan; Rev. Robert Monnin; David Ri-
ley, M.A.; Patricia Stevenson, editor, Lexington Books; Dan Thomas, M.A.,
Ph.D.; Maureen Tilley; John Trokan, D.Min.; Sr. Victoria Vondenberger,
RSM, JCL; James and Evelyn Whitehead, Ph.D.; Maera Winters of Rowman
& Littlefield; and Sr. Angela Ann Zukowski, Ph.D.
Special mention goes to those who found fault with my book and offered
their critiques. I begin with my daughter, Jennifer, and her husband Steve
Fuchs, who concluded that I had gone “too far” in some of my observations
regarding the Catholic Church’s doctrine on marital sexuality. Then there is
my mentor at the University of Strasbourg, Dr. Gabriel Vahanian, who con-
cluded that I had “not gone far enough.” While in this category of critique, I
want to include Rev. Jeff Kemper, professor of sacramental theology at the
Athenaeum in Cincinnati, who, while not agreeing with the tone of a longer
version of this book, nevertheless recommended it for a nihil obstat and an
imprimatur. Next comes Rev. Earl Fernandes, professor of moral theology at
the Athenaeum. He examined a shorter version of my book and concluded
that certain passages were troubling and possibly contrary to faith and morals.
I have taken Rev. Fernandes’ critiques to heart and made some changes in the
text that I think would satisfy his most serious objections.
ix
x Acknowledgments
Most of all, I want to thank my wife, Sally Keyes, who, for over a dozen
years, listened to me tell about the results of my research, encouraged me to
continue that research, and prayed with me that I would find a publisher for
this history of the development of the Catholic Church’s doctrine on marital
sexuality. I said to Sally that, even if my book did not find a publisher, all
the effort that went into this research had been worth it because we both
came to appreciate ever more deeply the sacrament of marital sexuality that
comes with the realization that we are called to passionately love each other
as Christ loves his church.
Introduction
“MOM, WHERE DID WE COME FROM?”
One day, while Richard and I waited for our mom to return to our car, we
talked about where things came from. Then we asked ourselves, “Where did
we come from?” As soon as our mother returned, we asked our question in
unison. Without hesitation Mom replied: “Your daddy put a seed in me and
you grew from that.” In my six-year-old imagination I pictured my father
taking a seed in his fingers and putting it on my mother’s tongue so she could
swallow it.
CATHOLIC ELEMENTARY SCHOOL
When I was in the second grade at St. Pascal Baylon Catholic School, Sister
Joseph Roberta began to prepare us for receiving the Sacrament of Penance
(Reconciliation). In order to know what sins we had to confess, we had to
learn about what was forbidden by the Ten Commandments. The Baltimore
Catechism Number One told us that the sixth and ninth commandments de-
clared that “impure touches” and “impure thoughts” were forbidden.
In the middle grades we received the next edition of our religion text, The
Baltimore Catechism Number Two. “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s
wife” commanded us “to be pure in thought and desire.”1 The Catechism
taught that “thoughts about impure things become sinful when a person thinks
of an unchaste act and deliberately takes pleasure in so thinking, or when
unchaste desire or passion is aroused and consent is given to it.”2 I did not
know what desire and passion were, but I had the distinct impression they
1
2 Introduction
were bad and I made up my mind to avoid them lest I would have to confess
such bad things to a priest.
LOOKING BACK
By the time I graduated from St. Pascal Baylon School, I had successfully
evaded learning about sexuality. I had managed to avoid immodest conversa-
tions, bad companions, impure magazines, and objectionable movies, all of
which were forbidden by the sixth and ninth commandments. At the same
time, having associated the sexual with the sinful, I had not learned much
about human sexuality—either from The Baltimore Catechism or the sisters
of St. Joseph, or the parish priests, or my parents. While there is something
very good about my boyhood innocence, there were drawbacks. My boyhood
development was spiritually and psychologically distorted by a religious
indoctrination that had always placed the sexual dimension in the context of
the sinful.
CATHOLIC HIGH SCHOOL
That approach to sexuality continued through Catholic high school. In my

junior year at Chaminade High School, Brother Gilfeather was our religion
teacher. He often spoke about his personal experiences in order to realistically
strengthen our Catholicism. On one occasion he confided that he had been
tempted by “so-called friends” to “betray” Catholic Church teaching. A cou-
ple had invited him to their home. After the meal, the host and hostess began
to explain how difficult it was to have children and to provide for their needs
and schooling. In this way they broached the topic of birth control. Brother
Gilfeather got up from their table, retrieved his coat, and walked out.
Brother Gilfeather declared that it was against “the natural law” for a mar-
ried couple to desire “venereal pleasure” while trying to avoid parenthood.
Seeking venereal pleasure outside of marriage was always a mortal sin. Within
a marriage there was the danger that venereal pleasure could lure couples into
committing the mortal sin of “practicing artificial birth control.”
SENIOR YEAR RELIGION
Toward the Eternal Commencement was our senior year religion text. It was
designed to help a person discern his or her life calling. Since the celibate or
Introduction 3
religious state was “the highest calling,” this state of life was treated first. We
read that the failure to develop the habit of self-sacrifice led people to “follow
their natural inclinations to indulge in worldly pleasures.”3 Lacking the habit
of self-sacrifice, such persons would find “themselves unduly attracted by
and attached to worldly pleasure and goods.”4
The text’s treatment of “The Holy State of Matrimony” stressed that
children were the primary purpose of marriage. The “mutual assistance of
husband and wife in all things” and “the quieting of concupiscence” were the
two “secondary purposes.”5 Marriage quieted concupiscence by “providing a
holy and a lawful outlet for the satisfaction of those tendencies which God
has placed in human nature to insure the continuance of the race on earth and
the peopling of Heaven with saints.”6 Whatever was done to “quiet” concu-
piscence outside of marriage was sinful.
THE TERRIBLE EVIL OF

PRACTICING BIRTH CONTROL
In the sixth section our text dealt with the themes of Pope Pius XI’s 1930
encyclical, Casti Cannubii (On Chaste Marriage). We learned that even in
marriage the desire for sexual relations with one’s spouse could be a danger
to salvation. Marital sex was “destined primarily by nature for the begetting
of children” and those who deliberately frustrated “its natural power and
purpose sin against nature and commit a deed which is shameful and intrinsi-
cally vicious.”7
Though “the modern apostles of chaos” might refer to the frustration of na-
ture as “birth control,” the pope called birth control what it really is, namely,
“uncontrolled indulgence in lust.”8 Comparing that “indulgence in lust” with
the pagan practice of “artificial vomiting so as to be able to begin eating and
drinking all over again,” our text declared that the frustration of the primary
purpose of marriage was “the misuse of a gift of God” as well as the enthrone-
ment of physical pleasure as “the supreme purpose in life.”9
Having already internalized Brother Gilfeather’s perspectives on the sinful
lure of venereal pleasure in the lives of some of his ex-friends, I began to see
marriage as a danger to my eternal salvation. Marriage was no longer appeal-
ing. I had learned that in marriage the husband and wife face the ever-present
temptation to sin by seeking sexual pleasure with each other. Our text had
a picture of a Roman soldier beating Jesus with a whip. The caption read:
“Christ expiated sins of the flesh by enduring the merciless scourging at the
pillar.” I next read this: “Sins of lust within the holy state of Matrimony play
their cruel part in these sufferings of our Divine Savior.”10
4 Introduction
SOME QUESTIONS
Looking back at my twelve years of Catholic schooling, certain questions

come to mind. Where was the awareness of the connection between God and
our human sexuality? How come so little was said about the relationship be-
tween the sexual dimension and the transcendent presence of the divine? Why
was it that the desire for sexual union with one’s spouse was seen as either
a concession to concupiscence, which was an effect of sin, or as temptation,
which was an occasion of sin? Where was the recognition of the relationship
of complementarity between the physicality of sexual intercourse and God’s
creation of us as male and female? Why did churchmen so often associate
shame and guilt with sexual pleasure? Why did theologians frequently pro-
pose a relationship of opposition between the sexual and the holy? Why was
the renunciation of sexual experience deemed to be spiritually good? Why
was the spiritual dimension of marital sexuality ignored? This book seeks to
answer such questions.
NOTES
1. The Official Revised Baltimore Catechism Number Two (New York: W. H.

Sadlier, Inc., 1945), 99.
2. The Official Revised Baltimore Catechism Number Two, 105.
3. Right Rev. Msgr. Clarence E. Elwell et al., Toward the Eternal Commence-
ment, Book Four in the Our Quest for Happiness series (Chicago: Mentzer, Bush &
Company, 1946), 204.
4. Elwell et al., Toward the Eternal Commencement, 204.
7. Elwell et al., Toward the Eternal Commencement, 277–78.
10. Elwell et al., Toward the Eternal Commencement, no page number.
1
Biblical Approaches to Marital Sexuality
IMAGES, MYTHS, AND METAPHORS
That which transcends the visible world can only be approached imagina-
tively. All our human ways of picturing “the Divine Reality” are metaphors
taken from the sensible world in which we live. Thus we read that God formed
Adam out of the clay of the ground and that God spoke to prophets. It would
not have occurred to the ancients to speak of God in any way other than the
way one spoke of human beings.1 So, when the biblical authors wanted to
describe divine action or divine intent, they relied on metaphors, images, and
stories that conveyed a deeper truth. They used “mythical” language and the
stories they told are frequently called “myths.”
However, a myth is not a “fairy tale.” Myth is an imaginative or symbolic
expression of “an insight more profound than scientific description and logi-
cal analysis can ever achieve.”2 The mythological accounts of the creation of
man and woman in the book of Genesis are stories that convey perceptions
and attitudes concerning the meaning of human sexuality.
ATTITUDES FOUND IN BIBLICAL STORIES
In the Hebrew Scriptures there are at least four distinguishable attitudes

toward sexuality.3 Sexual relating is regarded as part of ordinary, human liv-
ing. Second, there is the outlook that sees sexual intercourse as necessary to
increase the number of God’s people. A third attitude reflects the patriarchal
mindset that perceives sexual activity as the prerogative of men. A fourth
5
6 Chapter 1
attitude reflects the goodness in the passionate experience of a man and a

woman loving one another.
The creation stories of man and woman in the book of Genesis assert that
the sexual dimension is natural and good. These mythological stories reflect
their authors’ attitude of total acceptance of the creative Lordship of God.
Thus it can be said that “the attitude of the Old Testament authors towards
human sexuality, love between man and woman, and marriage and the beget-
ting of children, is extremely open, frank, and positive.”4
Sexuality in the Book of Genesis

There are two creation accounts in the first two chapters of Genesis. The
first creation account (Gen. 1:1–2:4) declared that God had designed human
beings so that they complement one another as male and female (1:26–27).
God then blessed the sexual differentiation of man and woman with the gift
of fertility (1:28). Six times the author declares that the created order is good.
God creates male and female and then declares that creation was “very good”
(1:31).
The second creation story is much older (Gen. 2:5–25). Here God is a
“hands-on” creator who fashions Adam from the clay of the earth. When the
man cannot find a creature like himself, God forms a woman out of Adam’s
rib. Eve is thus Adam’s intimate partner, “bone of his bone and flesh of his
flesh” (Gen. 2:23). The woman, sexually different and desirable, is God’s gift
to the man. They are able to unite in such a way that they physically become
two in one flesh (Gen. 2:24). Since God intended that man and woman would
unite sexually, male and female need not feel embarrassment or shame as
they delight in each other’s naked maleness and femaleness (Gen. 2:25). It
follows that man and woman can accept as God’s gifts such accompaniments
of the marital act as bonding, pleasure, comfort, security, affirmation, joy,
passion, and even ecstasy.
Sexuality and the Song of Songs

The very title of this biblical book, the Song of Songs (the Canticle of Can-
ticles), makes the claim that these songs or poems are the greatest of songs.
This biblical book may have originated in the songs sung at the weddings
of peasant folk. Sampling these poems, one finds uninhibited expressions of
passionate sexual feelings: “On my bed at night I sought him whom my heart
loves” (3:1); “I belong to my lover and for me he yearns” (7:11). Such poetic
recognition of the goodness of sexual pleasure expresses an attitude of total
acceptance of God’s design for human sexuality. Aqiba, the famed Jewish
Biblical Approaches to Marital Sexuality 7
rabbi and scholar, declared that “all the Scriptures are holy, but the Song of
Songs is the Holy of Holies.”5
But Christian leaders were not comfortable with this frank outlook on
human sexuality. Lacking an attitude of total acceptance of God’s cre-
ation of sexuality, some “Christian scholars rejected that rather literal
(and earthly) meaning because it was thought to be beneath the dignity
of God’s inspired word.”6 So the scholars in the early church treated the
Song of Songs as an allegory of God’s love for Israel or as an allegory of
the soul’s relationship with God or as an allegory of Christ’s love for his
church. Origen (185–254) was one such scholar. Although he was a great
theologian, it seems that he failed to appreciate the way God created us
as male and female. Lamenting the pull of sexual desire, Origen sternly
warned that “everyone who is not yet rid of the vexations of the flesh and
blood and has not ceased to feel the passion of his bodily nature” should
“refrain completely from reading this little book and the things that will be
said about it.”7 Origen’s “counsel” reflects deafness to the scriptural words
declaring the goodness of human sexuality. Origin’s writings do express an
attitude of conditional acceptance that will continue to develop through the
rest of Christianity’s history.
Jesus’ Attitude Regarding Marital Sexuality

Jesus of Nazareth treated the creation stories of Genesis “in the same way
as his people apparently understood them, religious statements of how it
was in the beginning.”8 Jesus understood that God had willed the good-
ness of human sexuality from the beginning, “especially how he willed that
husbands treat their wives.”9 So, when some Pharisees asked Jesus whether
divorce was permissible, he replied: “[F]rom the beginning of creation, ‘God
made them male and female. For this reason a man shall leave his father and
mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.’ . . .
Therefore, what God has joined together, no human being must separate”
(Mark 10:5–9).
Jesus had a positive outlook on marital relations. Recognizing God’s cre-
ative design for man and woman as depicted in the book of Genesis, Jesus
had no reservations about accepting marital intimacy. With the acceptance
of God’s design comes a certain serenity of outlook. As Dante wrote, “In
His will is our peace.”10 The words of Dante can also express the believer’s
attitude of total acceptance of God’s design as manifested in our human
sexuality. Such an outlook is the opposite of another attitude, an attitude of
conditional acceptance. This limited acceptance led to the pelvic anxiety that
has haunted the western church for nearly nineteen centuries.
8 Chapter 1
THE CHURCH’S ATTITUDE

OF CONDITIONAL ACCEPTANCE
An outlook or attitude is a mental position one takes with regard to a thing,

a custom, or an idea. A person’s attitude toward sexuality is fashioned out of
a whole complex of experiences and information found in his or her social
milieu. Similarly, an institution can develop its own unique attitude regarding
sexuality. Whenever early churchmen referred to marital relations, their state-
ments would be accompanied by such words as “if” or “but” or “on condition
that.” The resulting attitude toward God’s design could be described as an
attitude of conditional acceptance. At times the prevailing attitude concern-
ing erotic activity between spouses was an attitude of dismal uneasiness. At
other times their attitude was one of downright disdain. With the passage of
time, that conditional attitude more or less became the basis of the church’s
doctrine on marital sexuality. That attitude would often prevent seeing any-
thing spiritual or holy in the marital act. For the most part, marital relations
would be accepted only on the basis of their utility in providing children or
relieving concupiscence.
Some people think that St. Paul is the one responsible for the mood of pelvic
anxiety that has haunted the church. But, as we shall see, it was not Paul.
NOTES
1. W. Gunther Plaut, The Torah: A Modern Commentary (New York: Union of

American Hebrew Congregations, 1981), 21.
2. John L. McKenzie, Dictionary of the Bible (Milwaukee: The Bruce Publishing
Company, 1965), 599.
3. Morton Kelsey and Barbara Kelsey, Sacrament of Sexuality (Warwick, N.Y.:
Amity House, Inc., 1986), 90–102.
4. Walter Kasper, Theology of Christian Marriage, trans. David Smith (New
York: The Seabury Press, 1980), 25.
5. E. E. Urbach, “The Homiletical Interpretation of the Sages and the Exposi-
tions of Origen,” in Scripta Hierosolymitana 22 (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1971),
250, note 10.
6. David Thomas, Christian Marriage (Wilmington, Del.: Michael Glazier,
1983), 70.
7. Origen, The Song of Songs: Commentaries and Homilies, in Ancient Christian
Writers, Vol. 26 (Westminster, Md.: Newman, 1957), 23.
8. Theodore Mackin, S.J., What Is Marriage? (New York: Paulist Press, 1982),
43.
9. Mackin, What Is Marriage?, 43.
10. Dante, Paradiso, Canto III, l. 85.
2
St. Paul’s Unwitting Contributions to the
Church’s Negative Thinking on Marital Intercourse
FIRST CORINTHIANS—CHAPTER 7:1–40
Jesus said very little about marital sexuality. St. Paul had only a few things
to say on the subject. He was not the one who promoted a negative attitude
toward God’s design for human sexuality. But Paul did answer some ques-
tions about marriage that were asked by some of his Corinthian converts. That
is why the seventh chapter of Paul’s initial letter to the Corinthians can be
described as “the most important in the entire Bible for the question of mar-
riage and related subjects.”1
But St. Paul hardly intended to provide a treatise on Christian sexuality
in those scant forty verses. As things turned out, however, his answers pro-
vided the concepts that Christian thinkers would soon change into an attitude
of sexual pessimism. Future bishops and theologians would use those forty
verses as a quarry that provided material for a series of negative conclusions
regarding marital sexuality. Those ecclesiastical interpreters of First Corin-
thians would fail to take into account the fact that Paul was treating marriage-
related questions from the dual perspective of both his rabbinical training and
his belief that the world would soon end.
Is It Good “Not to Touch a Woman”?

When Paul arrived in Corinth, he preached a crucified and risen Jesus who
would soon return to bring a close to all ordinary history. Apparently a faction
of Paul’s Corinthian converts wanted to transform the virtue of chastity into
a state of total sexual abstinence as a preparation for the return of Jesus. Thus
these sexual rigorists held that “[i]t is a good thing for a man not to touch a
9
10 Chapter 2
woman” (1 Cor. 7:1). In the centuries that followed almost all of the church’s
authoritative teachers thought that Paul himself was teaching that “[i]t is a
good thing for a man not to touch a woman.”
But Paul was trying to move the Corinthian ascetics away from their pro-
posal to refrain from marital intercourse. Paul had been a Pharisee, knew the
book of Genesis, and recognized that the sexual needs and desires of men and
women were not evil. Accordingly, Paul sought to resolve the false problem
raised by the sexual rigorists in the following way: “[T]he husband should
fulfill his duty toward his wife, and likewise the wife toward her husband”
(1 Cor. 7:3). In marrying, the partners created a mutual “debt” of meeting
each other’s sexual needs. For that reason, Paul wrote, “a wife does not have
authority over her own body, but rather her husband, and similarly a husband
does not have authority over his own body, but rather his wife” (1 Cor. 7:4).
St. Paul was no prude. He taught that those who were married should stay
married and continue to enjoy their acts of sexual intercourse. He also recog-
nized that if an unmarried person’s sexual needs were strong, then he or she
should marry so as not to burn with sexual passion (1 Cor. 7:9). However,
Paul seems to have compromised when he responded to the overzealous fac-
tion of Corinthian ascetics. Perhaps he did not want to discourage those who
were ready to embrace celibacy while they waited for the world to end. So,
after advising married partners not to “deprive each other,” he seems to have
offered the married ascetics a face-saving concession: they could occasion-
ally abstain from sexual relations. “Do not deprive each other, except perhaps
by mutual consent, for a time, to be free for prayer, but then return to one
another” (1 Cor. 7:5).
Not only did the consent have to be a joint consent, but also the duration
of the abstinence was to be limited. Furthermore, the abstinence was to be
undertaken only for prayer. However, in the centuries that followed, the lead-
ers of the western church never ceased to remind married Christians that they
had a “duty” to abstain from marital intercourse. Rarely, if ever, did church
leaders remind spouses of Paul’s admonition that they should soon return to
their marriage bed!
Judaism and Marital Sex

Paul of Tarsus was a rabbi who “was educated strictly in the law of our fa-
thers” (Acts 22:3). When Paul responded to the Corinthian ascetics, he may
have had in mind the Jewish law of onah, which “mandates that sex between
a husband and wife take place on a regular basis.”2 The law of onah was de-
rived from Exodus 21:10: “If he takes another wife, he shall not withhold her
food, her clothing, or her conjugal rights.” The rabbis interpreted this passage
St. Paul’s Unwitting Contributions 11
to mean that frequent intercourse is a man’s duty and a woman’s right. If a

man did not meet his obligation to fulfill the sexual needs of his wife, it was
considered a “‘hardship for the body’ of the woman.”3
Judaism, however, wanted more for the married couple than the mere
avoidance of hardship. According to the rabbis, “The Torah describes the sex
life between Isaac and his wife Rebekah with the term . . . ‘to make laugh’
(Gen. 26:8). Both husband and wife should maximize their pleasure in the
sexual act.”4
St. Paul was probably familiar with the rabbinical teaching in the Mishna:
a husband should not refuse to have sexual relations with his wife; the wife
should not refuse relations with her husband.5 According to the Mishna there
was one exception to this rule: sexual relations may be put aside in the case
of studying the Mosaic Law and then only for a short period of time.6 This
may have been what Paul had in mind when he permitted the Corinthian
ascetics to abstain briefly from sexual intercourse for the sake of prayer (1
Cor. 7:5).
Effects of Paul’s Compromise with the Corinthian Ascetics

Paul had stated that sexually active married couples faced fewer dangers to
their chastity than married couples who decided to forego all sexual relations.
At the same time, Paul provided persons who had a more ascetical bent with
a rationale for occasionally abstaining from sexual relations. Perhaps Paul
thought he had offered a good compromise.
But it was a flawed compromise. Paul’s instructions would have been clear
enough if he had stopped after writing, “Do not deprive each other, except
perhaps by mutual consent for a time, to be free for prayer, but then return to
one another” (1 Cor. 7:5). Unfortunately, Paul added a warning to his advice:
“then return to one another so that Satan may not tempt you through your
lack of self-control” (1 Cor. 7:5). By pointing out the possibility of giving in
to the temptation to commit adultery, Paul seems to have overemphasized the
danger of sexual immorality. Paul’s linking of Satan with sexual temptation
would provide future churchmen with a scriptural rationale for connecting
marital intercourse with sin.
A PREFERENCE FOR VIRGINITY?
St. Paul thought that the world as it had been known would soon come to an
end. So, in referring to the unmarried and widows, he wrote: “[I]t is a good
thing for them to remain as they are, as I do” (1 Cor. 7:8). Then he added,
12 Chapter 2
“but if they cannot exercise self-control, they should marry, for it is better to
marry than to be on fire” (1 Cor. 7:9). Paul’s reasoning was quite realistic.
He recognized that men and women have sexual needs that may cause them
to burn with passion.
With the passing of decades, the expectation of Jesus’ immediate return
faded away. Church leaders began to interpret Paul as if he meant that the
married state itself was only for the “incontinent,” that is, for those who could
not sexually control themselves. Ironically, even though Paul had expressly
permitted men and women to marry on the basis of strong sexual desire (1
Cor. 7:9), the churchmen who came after him concluded that it was sinful for
spouses to engage in marital relations for the sake of satisfying their sexual
desires! Thus the words of Paul provided future leaders with a rationale that
enabled them to divide Christians into two classes—the celibates and the
married—with the celibates holding the superior rank.
In his Corinthian correspondence Paul’s ad hoc treatment of sexuality
both advocated celibacy and approved of young people marrying to cool the
fire of sexual desire. This double legacy “slid imperceptibly into an attitude
that viewed marriage itself as no more than a defense against desire.”7 As a
result, from the first century through the twentieth “a sense of the presence of
‘Satan,’ in the form of a constant and ill-defined risk of lust, lay like a heavy
shadow in the corner of every Christian church.”8
Serving God with a “Divided Heart”

During the nineteen centuries following St. Paul’s death, churchmen almost
never considered the fact that Paul was writing in the context of his under-
standing that the return of Jesus was imminent. But that perspective is the
necessary context for understanding what Paul meant when he wrote: “I
should like you to be free of anxieties. An unmarried man is anxious about
the things of the Lord, how he may please the Lord. But a married man is
anxious about the things of this world, how he may please his wife, and he is
divided.” Paul then noted that the wife would be “anxious about the things of
the world, how she may please her husband” (1 Cor. 7:31–34).
Through the rest of the Catholic Church’s history, the traditional interpreta-
tion of this text held that Paul was asserting the superiority of the virginal life
over the married life. However, it can be said that Paul’s main concern was
not with his converts avoiding marriage as such. His concern was with the
way a follower of Christ, whether married or unmarried, should live in what
Paul thought were the final days of human history. In view of the impending
end of the world, those beginning married life would not be as prepared to
meet the Lord as those who remained single and unattached.
Paul’s assumption that the world was about to end would eventually prove
to be mistaken. However, conclusions based on that mistaken assumption
continue to be held to this day.
FLESH VERSUS SPIRIT IN GALATIANS 5
“The most unfortunate mistranslation in English Bibles has been the use
of ‘flesh’ for sexual experience in the Pauline phrase . . . ‘according to the
flesh.’”9 The Greek word for “flesh” (sarx) has many meanings. It can be
used to refer to our physical body, the self, our flesh, or humanity as a whole.
But rarely does the term sarx (flesh) denote something sexual.
Paul reminded the Galatians that “the flesh has desires against the Spirit”
(Gal. 5:17). He listed such works of the flesh as these: “immorality, impurity,
licentiousness, idolatry, sorcery, hatreds, rivalry, jealousy, outbursts of fury
. . . and the like” (Gal. 5:19–21). It is clear that Paul did not intend to link “the
works of the flesh” with sexual sins as such. But Paul’s idea of “flesh” (sarx)
had so many overlapping meanings that Christian leaders were able to project
certain anti-sexual biases into Paul’s use of that word. Thus many churchmen
would interpret Paul’s reference to “flesh” as if he were condemning sexual
pleasure, even in marital intercourse.
THE LETTER TO THE EPHESIANS: MARRIAGE IN CHRIST
Ephesians clearly demonstrates a positive attitude toward marriage and mari-

tal intercourse. If Paul did write this letter,10 then it seems he had changed his
mind about the immediacy of Jesus’ return. Here Paul does not advise single
persons to remain unmarried. Instead, Paul depicted marriage as an institu-
tion blessed by Christ who is present in the union of husband and wife. This
view seems to be a Christian extension of the Jewish view that sexual union
in marriage is holy because it is intended by God. The author of Ephesians
praised marriage as a state of Christ-inspired love: “Wives should be subor-
dinate to their husbands as to the Lord. . . . Husbands, love your wives, even
as Christ loved the Church and handed himself over for her to sanctify her”
(Eph. 5:22–25).
Having noted that the husband cherishes his wife like his “own flesh,” Paul
states that Christ loves the church “because we are members of his body”
(5:30). “For this reason a man shall leave his father and his mother and be
joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh” (5:31). Paul accom-
plished two things by relating the marital union of husband and wife (Gen.
14 Chapter 2
2:23–24) to Jesus’ love for his church. First, he shifted his readers away from
society’s patriarchal subordination of women to men. Second, he provided a
way to envision marriage in terms of a relationship of equality between hus-
band and wife. Because the bride and groom were married “in Christ,” they
could perceive their love for each other as a sign or imitation of the love of
Christ for his church. Husband and wife were to be mutually subordinate to
one another and mutual love was the rationale for that subordination. Thus
marital sexuality had a deep spiritual significance.
Married love could be seen as a sign that represents or makes present the
loving union of Christ with his church. Marriage thus became a Christian life-
style in which God’s eternal love and faithfulness, revealed in Jesus Christ,
are made historically present.11 Accordingly, marriage could be seen as a
sign or sacrament in which the sexual union of husband and wife expressed
Christ’s love for his church. Here was a foundation for a Christian spirituality
of sexuality.
However, the perspective found in Ephesians had no significant impact on
the development of a spirituality of marriage. Ignoring the implications that
these scriptural verses had for sexually active husbands and wives, church-
men would focus their attention on the idea that divorce was unacceptable
because marriage had to be a sign of the unbreakable union between Christ
and his church.
SUMMARY
Paul was not the source of the Catholic Church’s attitude of pelvic anxiety.
When he declared, “Indeed, I wish everyone to be as I am” (1 Cor. 7:7), he
was a missionary who saw his celibacy as a major asset to his ministry. Since
he thought that the end of the world was near, he judged that it would be eas-
ier on his converts if those who were not yet married remained unmarried.
However, Paul’s response to the ascetical faction of the Corinthian com-
munity began a process that contributed to the development of the church’s
attitude of sexual suspicion. St. Paul’s compromise solution, offered to those
who wanted to avoid marital relations, would combine with other ideas and
events taking place in the early centuries of Christianity’s existence. In addi-
tion to the misinterpretations of Paul’s teachings on marriage, we must take
into account the responses of the church’s leadership to Gnostic ideas on
sexuality, the impact of the philosophical perspectives of Platonism and Sto-
icism, and the thinking of such famed fathers of the church as Sts. Clement
of Alexandria, Jerome, Ambrose, and Augustine.
NOTES
1. J. He’ring, The First Epistle of Saint Paul to the Corinthians (London: Ep-
worth Press, 1962), 157.
2. Rabbi Michael Gold, Does God Belong in the Bedroom? (Philadelphia, Jeru-
salem: The Jewish Publication Society, 1992), 73.
3. Gold, Does God Belong in the Bedroom?, 73.
4. Gold, Does God Belong in the Bedroom?, 76.
5. Linwood Urban, A Short History of Christian Thought (New York: Oxford
University Press, 1995), 37.
6. Urban, A Short History of Christian Thought, 37.
7. Peter Brown, The Body and Society (New York: Columbia University Press,
1988), 55.
8. Brown, The Body and Society, 55.
9. Walter Wink, Engaging the Powers (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993), 61.
10. While the letter to the Ephesians is attributed to Paul, it was probably written
by someone other than Paul. For the sake of brevity I will omit the question of author-
ship and simply refer to the author of Ephesians as Paul.
11. Walter Kasper, Theology of Christian Marriage, trans. David Smith (New
York: The Seabury Press, 1980), 30.
3
Early Church Leaders Defend
Marriage Against Gnostic Attacks
REFERENCES TO GNOSTICISM IN THE PASTORAL LETTERS
In the first century there was no system of oversight by bishops and there
was no list of inspired Christian scriptures. Thus, toward the latter part of the
first century, the leaders of churches founded by Paul, John, Peter, and other
missionaries found themselves challenged by rival religious movements, par-
ticularly Gnosticism. The Greek word gnosis literally means “knowledge,”
hence the term “Gnosticism.” Until the second half of the twentieth century,
little was known about the way Gnosticism rivaled early Christianity. What
was known was scattered in several New Testament books and in a number
of references found in the works of the fathers of the church.1
The Gnostic sects based their special knowledge on a combination of ele-
ments drawn from Iranian mythology, Jewish mysticism, and certain Chris-
tian themes. The Gnostics claimed to have a special revelation that would
save only those to whom that revealed “knowledge” had been given. Gnosti-
cism also incorporated Greek philosophical speculations and made much use
of the notion of freedom from the Jewish law as proclaimed in some of Paul’s
letters.
The Pauline letters known as First Timothy, Second Timothy, and Titus
were written in the 60s and 70s. These letters were addressed to pastors of
congregations rather than ecclesial communities. Those who guided the vari-
ous local churches opposed the Gnostics by exhorting Christians to follow
“sound doctrine” and to ignore those “demonic instructions” that prohibited
marriage. The first letter of Timothy noted that in the days to come some
believers would turn from the faith “by paying attention to deceitful spirits”
who would “forbid marriage” (1 Tim. 4:1–3).
17
18 Chapter 3
Timothy was warned to be wary of teachers claiming to have special

knowledge: “Avoid profane babbling and the absurdities of so-called knowl-
edge [gnosis]. By professing it, some people have deviated from the faith” (2
Tim. 6:20–21). Stating that women “will be saved through motherhood” (1
Tim. 2:15), the author was probably reminding his readers that women are
saved by the very reality rejected by the false teachers—namely, marriage
and the continuation of the human race.
THE GNOSTIC VIEW: CREATION IS EVIL
Much of what we know of Gnosticism comes from the 1945 discovery

of the Naj‘ Hammadi texts that were buried in the sands of Egypt. When
a comprehensive study of the Gnostic texts became available in the early
1970s, it became apparent that Gnosticism was threatening early Christianity.
Gnosticism divided all reality into two realms: the spiritual and the material.
“Spiritual reality” was good; “physical reality” was evil. Gnostics claimed
that they possessed a secret revelation that put them in communion with an
ultimate spiritual reality that was superior to the “Creator God” worshipped
by Jews and early Christians. Gnostic leaders taught that the God who created
the material world (the God of the book of Genesis) was an evil counterfeit
of the ultimate and purely spiritual reality.
Contrary to Genesis’ assertion that material creation is good, the Gnostic
myth taught that only spiritual reality had a right to exist. The human body,
being rooted in matter, existed only in defiance of the original order of things.
It followed that marriage and human sexuality lacked any goodness or sig-
nificance.
Paradoxical Perspectives on Sexual Intercourse

Never well organized, Gnostic teachings on sexual intercourse were found at
both extremes of a wide spectrum. At the extreme right, Gnosticism imposed
a rigid abstinence from all sexual activity. At the extreme left, Gnosticism
promoted a libertine promiscuity. Both extremes repudiated the sexual di-
mension of married life.
The right-wing Gnostics believed that both marriage and sexual appetites
were the evil products of the evil creator. They felt that they were called to
reject the “evil” of marriage as well as the “evil” of satisfying sexual needs.
They saw their rigorous self-denial and uncompromising asceticism as proof
that they were saved.
Early Church Leaders Defend Marriage 19
At the opposite extreme, the left-wing Gnostics advocated sexual experi-

ence as a means of obtaining knowledge. Gnostic followers of Valentinus
held that, unlike the “animal man” who was bound by moral law, no moral
law bound the “spiritual man.”2 These Gnostics committed acts of fornication
and adultery, often seducing the women they instructed.3
Christians and Right-Wing Gnosticism

The right-wing Gnostics believed the sexual union of “two in one flesh”
(Gen. 2:24) was evil, something that should not have existed. These Gnostics
thought that when the evil creation of Sophia (the evil God) was undone, they
would become sexless, immaterial creatures. The Encratites are representa-
tive of those Christian heretics who accepted the Gnostic view of an evil
creation. Believing that sexual experience was “the first cause of death,”4 they
held that Adam and Eve’s desire to have sexual relations with each other had
been brought about by their loss of the gift of immortality. Facing death, the
first parents sought to “survive” by having children. Thus sexual intercourse
came about as the aftermath of the first sin. This association of the human
sexual dimension with the sin of Adam and Eve would hinder the develop-
ment of a spirituality of sexuality well into the twentieth century.
Arriving in Rome about 140, a man named Marcion converted to Chris-
tianity. However, he later accepted the Gnostic teaching that the physical
world was created by the “evil God of the Jews.” Like the Encratites and
Valentinus, Marcion adopted an attitude of total rejection of God’s creation of
sexuality. Thinking that the rejection of sexuality was their way back to true
life, the prayer of these Gnostics may well have been “Unsex me, O Lord of
the true and spiritual world.”
Left-Wing Gnostic Views

Whereas the right-wing Gnostics advocated the avoidance of all sexual ex-
perience, the left-wing Gnostics seemed to advocate participation in sexual
experience. While little is known about their liturgies, it seems that sexual
orgasm was regarded as a means of revelation. Gnostics were reported as
making a parody of the Christian meal, the agape, which followed the cel-
ebration of the Eucharist. Deploring such activity, Bishop Clement of Alex-
andria noted that “they have impiously called by the name of communion any
common sexual intercourse.”5
In sum, both forms of Gnosticism were unable to integrate the sexual
dimension into what it means to be a human person. The left-wing Gnostics
20 Chapter 3
and the right-wing Gnostics held one perception in common: they viewed the
sexual dimension of humankind as the product of an evil creator. Each group
saw human sexuality as something irrational, an aspect of human nature that
could not be authentically integrated into human life.
THE DILEMMA GNOSTICISM PRESENTED

TO EARLY CHRISTIANITY
At the time when Christianity was beginning to form an attitude toward mari-
tal sexuality, Christian leaders had to contend with a formidable adversary.
The two Gnostic extremes caught those leaders in a pincer movement. On one
flank, left-wing Gnosticism advocated promiscuity and the rejection of any
sexual ethic. On the other flank, the right-wing Gnostics advocated the rejec-
tion of both marriage and the sexual dimension of the person.
Left-wing Gnosticism forced the church’s leadership to react to the false
problem of having to choose between acceptance and rejection of sexual pro-
miscuity. The result was that some Christian leaders fell into the trap of de-
claring that desiring sexual pleasure was irrational. By so responding to that
false problem, Christian leaders found themselves arguing against any enjoy-
ment of sexual pleasure in marriage. Unfortunately, this argument would lead
to a spirituality that focused on the renunciation of sexual pleasure.
When dealing with the threat from the right-wing Gnostics, Christian lead-
ership also became entangled in problems. Right-wing Gnosticism’s rigorist
denial of any goodness in the marital act put the early church in the position
of having to justify marital intercourse. Church leaders found themselves
working out arguments that could defend the lawfulness of marital union
between spouses. This process was further complicated by the fact that the
majority of early Christian leaders favored virginity. And so the leaders had
great difficulty in perceiving that the pleasurable activity involved in marital
relations was good. To work out a strong defense of marriage and marital
intercourse would have gone against their own high valuation of virginity.
Three Attitudes
At this point it can be said that in the early church there were at least three
possible attitudes regarding marital sexuality. The Jewish attitude is summed
up in the first two chapters of Genesis. This attitude of gratitude declares:
“Praise God for making us male and female!” At the opposite end of the
spectrum is the Gnostic perspective. Viewing Sophia as the evil God who
created physical human bodies, the Gnostic believer expressed an attitude
of rejection: “Sexual beings are a mistake and should never have been!” Be-
tween these attitudes of gratitude for and rejection of God’s creative design
lay a third attitude, an attitude of partial or conditional acceptance. This at-
titude sighs: “Yes, God created us male and female, but a sexless humankind
would have been better.”
With 20/20 hindsight we realize that there was a way out of the double bind
presented by the Gnostic perspectives. The early Christian leaders might have
defeated the Gnostic attack by strongly affirming the lordship of God, who
created the goodness of marital sexuality. That view entails the acceptance
of marriage and the acts of sexual bonding as realities intended by God from
the beginning (Gen.1:27–28; 2:18–25; Mark 10:2–12). But few of the fathers
of the church did that.
THE FATHERS OF THE CHURCH “DEFEND” MARRIAGE
The term “father” is the title given to those church leaders whose sermons,
homilies, exhortations, teachings, and theological reflections, taken collec-
tively, are regarded as the basis of orthodox Christian doctrine. Some of these
early Christian leaders attempted to defend marriage from the Gnostic attacks
by focusing on its procreative utility. The outcome of this approach was not
very successful because many churchmen valued celibacy to such a degree
that they were almost in agreement with right-wing Gnosticism’s rejection of
marriage and marital intimacy.
Another drawback to the defense of marriage is found in the fact that many
of the fathers favored Stoicism, the Greek philosophical outlook that stressed
logic and reasoning while disdaining the affective dimension of human
existence. Consequently, many fathers tended to regard marital intercourse
“as a regrettable necessity to which the devout Christian ought to turn with
reluctance—an unseemly performance, a cause of spiritual insensibility, and
a hindrance to devotion.”6
Tertullian
The brilliant Tertullian (160–220), although married, perceived marriage as a
state in which carnal desire could easily lead people away from God. His idea
of a spirituality of sexuality can be seen in his Exhortation to Chastity. There
he listed three forms of virginity. The ideal form was “virginity from one’s
birth.” Next there was “renunciation of sexual connection,” a form of virginity
undertaken after a man and a woman contracted marriage. The third form of
virginity consisted in “marrying no more after the disjunction of matrimony
22 Chapter 3
by death.”7 This final form of virginity was to be accomplished in two stages.

In the first stage the husband would try to cut down marital activity to a mini-
mum. Then, when his wife died, he would refrain from remarriage.
Tertullian advised widows “to love the opportunity of continence” and he
viewed a second marriage as “repeating the servitude of matrimony,” a rejec-
tion of “the liberty offered by the death of one’s spouse.”8 Married couples
had to live in a state of life where marital relations were expected. After the
death of a spouse the survivor was spiritually better off because he or she
was no longer subject to the Pauline requirement of rendering the “marriage
debt.” Since second marriages were “detrimental to faith” and “obstructive
to holiness,”9 it is safe to say that Tertullian saw scant spiritual goodness in
being married.
Origen: Church Father and Christian Platonist

Born and raised in Alexandria, Egypt, Origen (185–254) was a brilliant
Christian scholar. He had accepted Plato’s idealism, a philosophical outlook
that considered objects perceived by our senses as pale shadows of what re-
ally exists in the eternal world of ideas. Accordingly, Origin regarded the
tangible delights of touch, sight, and hearing as dull, physical sensations that
distracted a person from the real joys of a more spiritual existence beyond
the material world. The intimacy and pleasures of family life were, according
to Origen, merely blurred echoes of those far more real delights reserved for
“spiritual” persons who never succumbed to numbing sensual experience.10
In another step away from the attitude of acceptance of God’s creation of
us as male and female, Origen mistakenly concluded that God never intended
that human beings would engage in sexual intercourse. It seems that Origen
proposed a dualism that despised the body while exalting the soul. Origen
spoke of the virginal body as an appropriate “temple of God” and opined that
“Adam had a body in Paradise; but in Paradise he did not ‘know’ Eve.”11
Following in Origen’s Platonic footsteps, succeeding generations of theo-
logians would continue to ignore the biblical assertion that God created men
and women so they could unite sexually (Gen. 2:23–24). If the virginal body
was a divine and eternal ideal, it would follow that a sexless spirituality
would be the appropriate spirituality for Christian believers.
SAINT CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA
St. Clement of Alexandria (ca. 150–215), a “father of the church” and a mar-
ried man, was one of the first Christian authors to defend marriage in a way
that directly challenged the right-wing Gnostic teaching that marital inter-
course was evil. Arriving at Alexandria in Egypt about the year 180, Clement
studied under Pantaenus, who was both a devout Christian and an enthusiastic
Stoic philosopher. Clement also embraced Stoicism, but he differed with many
of his celibate contemporaries on an important point. He thought that marital
intercourse, if performed for procreation and not pleasure, was the Christian
ideal. Thus, sometime toward the end of the second century, St. Clement pre-
pared the groundwork for a spiritualized, Stoical view of marriage.
Founded by Zeno (ca. 334–262 BCE), Stoicism was a philosophical out-
look that was highly esteemed by the elite of the Greco-Roman world. Sto-
ics aimed at a balanced life through the strict exercise of reason. Clement
wholeheartedly identified himself with the Stoic ideal and wanted Christians
to approach marital intercourse “in the Stoic manner, as a conscious action,
undertaken in the service of God.”12
While early church leaders thought it was better to avoid marriage, they did
not believe that marriage was a corruption created by an evil God. So these
churchmen sought to find a way out of the bind fashioned by the right-wing
Gnostics who renounced marital relations as being evil and the left-wing
Gnostics who held that sexual promiscuity provided revelatory experience.
Clement believed that the rationally “controlled marriage” was the “middle
position”13 that provided a way out of the Gnostic bind.
Clement’s “middle position” was straightforward: marital intercourse was
justified by the intention to procreate a child. This view can also be viewed
as a compromise between the attitudes of total acceptance and total rejec-
tion of the human sexual dimension. Clement arrived at this compromise by
reworking St. Paul’s concession to the hardline Corinthian ascetics (1 Cor. 7:
5). Mistakenly thinking that Paul was imposing a reproductive rationale for
marital intercourse, it appears that Clement interpreted Paul in the light of his
Stoic principles. He concluded, “if the married couple agree to be continent
[agree to abstain], it helps them pray; if they agree with reverence to have
sexual relations, it leads them to beget children.”14
When some right-wing Gnostics read, “I have just married a woman and
therefore I cannot come” (Luke 14:20), they concluded that marriage caused
people to reject the invitation to the wedding feast of the Kingdom of God.
Combining Stoic morality and Christian reverence for celibacy, Clement held
that this text did not condemn marriage as such, but those married persons
who sought sexual pleasure in marital intercourse. The person who said “I
married a wife and therefore I cannot come” served as “an example to convict
those who for pleasure’s sake were abandoning the divine command.”15 Hav-
ing raised the Stoic rule to the level of “divine command,” Clement unknow-
ingly constructed a barrier to the development of a theology of married life.
24 Chapter 3
The Stoic Pattern Established in Christianity

Some right-wing Gnostics had argued that marital intercourse and procreation
were evil because Paul had written: “Now in regard to the matters about
which you wrote: ‘It is a good thing for a man not to touch a woman.’”16
Neither the Gnostics nor St. Clement realized that Paul was referring to an
opinion held by certain Corinthian ascetics. Putting a Stoic interpretation
on the text, Clement opined that Paul was advising the married to engage
in the procreative act while renouncing the enjoyment of sexual pleasure.
According to Clement, Paul meant to speak “not to those who chastely use
marriage for procreation alone, but to those who were desiring to go beyond
procreation, lest the adversary should arise a stormy blast and arouse desire
for alien pleasures.”17
Thus, according to Clement’s treatise “On Marriage,” Satan was the source
of a couple’s desire for sexual delight (“alien pleasures”). In time, Clement’s
linking of “alien” sexual pleasure with Satan would become a major theme in
the development of the church’s doctrine on marital intercourse.
Furthermore, when Clement considered the commandment, “Thou shalt
not commit adultery,” he interpreted it as God’s commanding husbands to
engage in intercourse “only for the purpose of begetting children.”18 Clement
pointed out that in all the Jewish scriptures there was not a single instance in
which “one of the ancients approached a pregnant woman.”19 Succumbing to
his adoption of Stoicism, Clement held that the avoidance of sexual relations
from the time one’s wife became pregnant to the time of the child’s weaning
was “a law of nature given by God.”20
Higher Moral Standards for Married Christians

St. Clement of Alexandria, as well as other fathers of the church, seems to
have been overly influenced by his Greco-Roman culture. Stoic ideals and
attitudes were firmly established in the philosophical vanguard of Greece
and Rome. Christian leaders were trying to impress Greco-Roman society by
demonstrating the high moral tone of their religion. It is not surprising that
Christian bishops and theologians adopted the ideas and attitudes of those
pagan philosophers who were “the best and the brightest” of the second and
third centuries.
When it came to the Stoic rule of engaging in sexual intercourse only
to produce children, some writers bragged that Christians were even more
rational than the Stoics! Before Clement began his teaching career, others
had attempted to demonstrate Christian one-upmanship in moral behavior.
St. Justin (d. 165) had declared, “We Christians either marry only to produce
children, or, if we refuse to marry, are completely continent.”21 In 177 Athen-
agoras addressed his “Supplication” to Emperor Marcus Aurelius. Employing

agricultural imagery to make his point, Athenagoras declared, “As the hus-
bandman, throwing the seed into the ground, awaits the harvest, not sowing
more upon it, so the procreation of children is the measure of our indulgence
in appetite.”22 In short, to be a good Christian, one had to be a good Stoic.
Thus Clement asserted: “The human ideal of continence, I mean that which is
set forth by Greek philosophers, teaches that one should fight desire and not
be subservient to it so as to bring it to practical effect. But our ideal is not to
experience desire at all.”23
St. Clement’s stoically inspired outlook is also revealed in his moral im-
perative: “We should do nothing from desire.”24 With hindsight we can see
Clement’s mistake. He wanted to separate sexual desire from the marital
act. This separation would lead to this conflicted conclusion: The man who
marries should do so “for the sake of begetting children” while practicing
“continence so that it is not desire he feels for his wife.”25
THE LEGACY OF ST. CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA
Clement advocated that the Christian husband should go about begetting

“children with a chaste and controlled will.”26 Here the basic flaw is a lack
of balance. Stoicism had embraced humanity’s rationality while disdaining
the emotional component of human living. Thus Clement and the Christian
leaders who followed his perspective were unable to find any real value in
the emotional or pleasurable aspects that are the normal accompaniments of
the marital act. Clement rejected as “vulgar and plebeian” any efforts to seek
pleasure in the marital act.27 Although he praised the values of mutual as-
sistance and support, he also held “that ‘voluptuous joy’ had no proper place
in Christian life.”28 In sum, “Christian couples will never have intercourse
simply because they enjoy it and each other; they must make love only to
beget a child.”29
Clement of Alexandria was one of the most prolific writers in the first three
centuries of the Christianity’s existence. The impact of his writings carried
straight through the history of the Catholic Church. His rejection of sexual
pleasure became embedded in the church’s developing doctrine regarding the
sexual dimension of wedded life. As Peter Brown pointed out, his unyielding
insistence that marital intercourse ought to take place only for the begetting
of children blighted the blossom of married lovemaking.
In the years that followed, procreation became the all-important value. The
other aspects that might accompany marital intimacy, such as pleasuring,
companionship, sexual bonding, and mutual self-giving, were disregarded.
26 Chapter 3
Christian teachers and theologians could not find any significance in marital
intercourse when the couple was infertile or when the woman was pregnant
or had reached menopause. In addition, such issues as sexual pleasure, sexual
positions, frequency of marital relations, sexual foreplay, women’s orgasms,
and situations in which another pregnancy would seriously endanger a wom-
an’s health were not addressed.
It is ironic that the positive things Clement wrote about the spiritual life
of married Christians never gained the attention of churchmen who lived
afterward. Clement’s efforts to demonstrate that married Christians were
worthy to serve as leaders came to naught. By the year 300 there were about
five million Christians living in the Roman Empire. However, a tiny minority
of celibate leaders had “argued so vehemently” for sexual renunciation that
Clement’s strongly voiced advocacy of a spiritual life for the married was
drowned out by those whose ideal was “the human body untouched by sexual
experience.”30 Marriage became a second-class lifestyle for those Christians
who were not able to “contain” their sexual desires.
NOTES
1. The church fathers were those writers who were the early defenders of the
Christian faith. Some of the more well-known defenders of the faith, often called
“apologists,” were Ignatius of Antioch (d. 107), Irenaeus (130–200), Clement of Al-
exandria (150–215), Tertullian (160–220), and Hippolytus (d. 235).
2. Irenaeus, The Pretended Gnosis, 1.6, PG 7:506–10, cited in John T. Noonan,
Contraception (New York: The New American Library), 90.
3. Irenaeus, The Pretended Gnosis, 1.6, PG 7:506–10, cited in Noonan, 90.
1988), 86.
5. Clement of Alexandria cited in John Ernest Leonard Oulto and Henry Chad-
wick, “On Marriage,” art. 27, Alexandrian Christianity, The Library of Christian
Classics, Vol. II (Philadelphia: Westminister Press, 1954), 52–53.
6. Sherwin Bailey, Common Sense About Sexual Ethics: A Christian View (New
York: The Macmillan Company, 1962), 29.
7. Tertullian, “Exhortation to Chastity” in Ante Nicene Fathers, Vol. IV (Grand
Rapids, Mich.: Wm B. Eerdmans, reprinted 1972), 50.
8. Tertullian, “To His Wife,” chapter 7, 43.
9. Tertullian, “To His Wife,” 43
13. Clement of Alexandria, “On Marriage,” art. 81, 78.

16. 1 Cor. 7:1.
21. Justin, Apology for Christians, 1.29, cited in Noonan, Contraception, 101.
22. Athenagoras, Legation on Behalf of Chrsitans, 33, cited in Noonan, Contra-
ception, 101.
28. James A. Brundage, Law, Sex and Christian Society in Medieval Europe (Chi-
cago: The University of Chicago Press, 1987), 67.
29. Brundage, Law, Sex and Christian Society, 67.
30. Brown, The Body and Society, 138–39.
4
Augustine: The Man Who Carved in
Stone the Church’s Conditional Acceptance
of Marital Intercourse
With the exception of certain biblical authors, Augustine of Hippo is the

most influential writer in the history of Christianity. He integrated Platonist
philosophy with Christian thought and plumbed the depths of the union of
God and the human soul. But Augustine’s rejection of his own sexual experi-
ence and his doctrinal debates with the Manichees, Pelagius, and others, as
well as his skewed interpretations of the book of Genesis, all combined to
produce a distorted perspective on marital sexuality. Combining that distorted
perspective with his developing theory of original sin, Augustine produced
a systematic theology that gave the Catholic Church her dominant theologi-
cal perspective on marriage. The trouble was that Augustine was unable to
recognize that the erotic aspect of human sexuality is good.
AUGUSTINE’S “LOVE LIFE”
Augustine was born in North Africa in 354. His parents, recognizing their son’s
intellectual gifts, sent him to obtain an education in the art of public speaking,
a common path to wealth and political power. Then, from 371 to 374, between
the ages of seventeen and twenty, Augustine studied at Carthage where he
thought of himself as being “in the midst of a hissing cauldron of lust.”1
Although some regard the account of his youth in his Confessions as the
product of a promiscuous life, it is more accurate to see Augustine as a nor-
mal young male. About the age of eighteen he entered into a stable sexual
relationship with a woman. For twelve years, from 372 to 384, Augustine was
faithful to his partner and she was faithful to him. Augustine then became a
Manichaean believer and remained such for eleven years.
29
30 Chapter 4
In 384 his mother Monica arranged a marriage with a young woman from
an influential Roman family. Augustine then sent his concubine of twelve
years back to northern Africa: “The woman with whom I had been living was
torn from my side as an obstacle to my marriage and this was a blow which
crushed my heart to bleeding, because I loved her dearly.”2 Since it would be
two years before his future bride was of legal age, Augustine took another
mistress. Thinking of himself as “a slave of lust,” Augustine regarded his
sexual desire as a sickness: “This meant that the disease of my soul would
continue unabated.”3
When Augustine looked back on his twelve years of cohabitation with the
woman he professed to love “dearly,” he perceived no goodness in their sex-
ual relationship. He simply dismissed their long sexual partnership by stating
that he chose her “for no special reason but that my restless passions had
alighted on her.”4 Augustine moralized: “I found out by my own experience
the difference between the restraint of the marriage alliance, contracted for
the purpose of having children, and a bargain struck for lust.”5 This negative
assessment of his twelve-year relationship seems to express the pessimistic
attitude that would guide his theological speculations on marital sexuality.
CHRISTIAN AND THEOLOGIAN
In 384, at the age of thirty, Augustine went to teach in Milan, a thriving center
of Christian Platonism. Augustine began the process of becoming a Christian
and was baptized at the Easter Vigil in 387. Instead of marring the young
woman to whom he was engaged, Augustine became a monk and devoted
himself to writing and study. In his book On the Morals of the Manichees, he
attacked the religion he had professed for eleven years.
In 391 he became a priest. Five years later he became the bishop of Hippo.
Between 397 and 400 Augustine wrote his Confessions. About 401 he pro-
duced his extremely influential treatise The Good of Marriage. Between 400
and his death in 431 Augustine wrote deep theological treatises, commented on
the Scriptures, and engaged in various doctrinal controversies. Augustine’s op-
ponents were the Manichees, the Donatists, Pelagius, Jovinian, Julian, and any
other whom he deemed to be heretical. By the time Augustine died his writing
achievements had surpassed all the fathers of the church, including Origen.
THE RELIGION OF MANI
Mani (216–277) was born in Babylon. By 240 he had combined elements

of Persian dualism, Buddhist doctrines, Gnostic beliefs, Jewish legends, and
Augustine 31
various Christian teachings into the Manichaean religion. In 277 Mani was
put to death. Proclaiming its own scriptures and offering universal salvation,
Mani’s religion rivaled Christianity. Mani’s followers claimed that they had
a rational explanation for everything. In 372 Augustine’s preoccupation with
the origin of evil drew him into the Manichaean church where he remained
for the next eleven years.
Manichaeanism held that from the beginning there existed two opposing
realms, light (goodness) and darkness (evil). Manichaeanism was both dual-
istic and materialistic. It held that everything in the universe was composed
of matter. The good matter was composed of light, which was clean, pure,
bright, beautiful, and good. Evil was made of whatever was dark, dirty, and
impure. In Mani’s mind “sex and the dark were intimately associated”; his
followers “regarded ‘the lower half of the body’ as the disgusting work of the
devil, the very prince of darkness.”6
According to Mani, there were three epochs or ages. The first epoch was
the period in which light and darkness coexisted in separate parts of the cos-
mos. The second age began when the realm of darkness invaded the realm of
light. Human existence began during the second age. In the future third age
the two realms would be eternally separated. The purpose of Mani’s religion
was to bring about that third age.
According to the Manichaean mythology, light produced “primal man”
to battle the invading darkness. But darkness defeated primal man, and the
demons of darkness consumed his soul. Thus the demons ingested the five
luminous elements—light, wind, fire, water, and air. Then the two master
devils devoured all the lesser demons that had ingested the five luminous
elements that were in the soul of primal man. This act of cosmic cannibalism
enabled the two master devils to assimilate all the light that had been captured
at the beginning of the second epoch.
Containing the luminous elements in their bodies, the two master devils
copulated sexually, producing Adam and Eve. Thus the bodies of Adam and
Eve were made of dark, evil matter.7 But Adam’s body was not completely
vile. Particles of light ended up in Adam’s semen. To prevent light from
eventually escaping from Adam, the devils tricked Adam and Eve into com-
mitting the evil deed of procreation. From that moment the particles of light
would be passed from generation to generation through acts of intercourse
and the resulting conceptions. The bodies of human beings would serve for-
ever as dark prisonhouses for the particles of light.
Mani claimed to receive a revelation declaring that the human soul could
become conscious of its primal origins in the kingdom of light. Since pro-
creation was the “invention” of the two master devils, Mani’s ethical system
held that procreation was the worst possible sin. Salvation would come only
32 Chapter 4
when the human race died out. Mani divided his Manichaean believers into
two classes, the “elect” and the “hearers.” The elect lived their lives in strict
abstinence from sexual intercourse, meat, and wine. The hearers were permit-
ted to have sexual intercourse as long as they did not procreate children. To
avoid conception the hearers were to abstain from intercourse during those
times of a woman’s cycle when she was likely to conceive. Augustine was in
this group of sexually active Manichaean hearers.
The Manichaean Challenge to Christianity

The confrontation between Gnosticism and early church leaders had contrib-
uted to Christianity’s adoption of the Stoic ethic. The utility of procreation
justified the marital act. But just as church leaders were beginning to defeat the
Gnostics, Manichaeanism appeared on the scene. The new religion delivered a
frontal attack on the Christian defense of marriage. In an ironic turnabout, the
religion of Mani declared that the non-use of sexual intercourse was useful for
it would bring about the extinction of the human race.
This Manichaean composite of dualism, Gnosticism, and Christian heresy
presented the leaders of the early church with an opportunity to work out a
new rationale for accepting the sexual dimension of marriage. That rationale
was present in the Hebrew and Christian scriptures. Marital intercourse is
good because God created us male and female and then blessed us with the
gift of fertility. Jesus himself had expressed this attitude of total acceptance
of God’s design. Furthermore, the author of Ephesians had compared the love
expressed by husband and wife to Christ’s love for his church. But church
leaders did not rethink their approach to marital sexuality. Augustine of
Hippo was the principal reason why they did not.
Augustine: Opponent of the Manichees

Augustine’s On the Morals of the Manichaeans attacked his former co-
religionists by arguing that marriage did not exist among Mani’s followers.
Augustine’s rationale was the standard rule that had been adopted by church
leaders—namely, that marital intercourse should be undertaken only for the
purpose of procreating children. Since the Manichees abstained from sexual
intercourse when the woman would be fertile, Augustine declared: “This
proves that you approve of having a wife, not for the procreation of children,
but for the gratification of passion.”8 It was a simple argument. Because the
Manichaean “wife” did not try to conceive, she was not really a wife. Augus-
tine summarized: “Where there is a wife there must be marriage. But there
Augustine 33
is no marriage where motherhood is not in view; therefore neither is there a

wife.”9
While the Manichees rejected procreation as an evil to be avoided, they
approved of seeking of sexual delight as an acceptable purpose for sexual in-
tercourse. Augustine reversed these two elements, arguing that sexual pleasure
was the “evil” to be avoided while procreation was the only acceptable purpose.
Without the procreative purpose the marital act was merely an act undertaken
“for the gratification of passion.” Augustine’s conclusion would eventually
become the Catholic Church’s basic doctrine regarding the marital act.
MARRIAGE: AN OBSTACLE TO RATIONAL LIVING
Writing as a Christian bishop, Augustine looked back at his experiences and

concluded that every act of intercourse with his mistress was sinful because
it was undertaken not for procreation but “for the gratification of passion.”10
Augustine found nothing spiritual, rational, or gracious in his acts of sexual
relating with his partner. This negative view of sexual intercourse is exem-
plified in a passage from his Soliloquies, a series of imaginary dialogues
between himself and a respondent called “Reason.” At one point “Reason”
asked Augustine, “What about a wife? Would not it be nice sometimes to
have a beautiful, modest, compliant woman, one who is well-read or whom
you could easily teach, one without too much of a dowry . . . but with enough
that she would not be bothersome to your leisure; would that not be nice?”11
Replying to “Reason,” Augustine declared: “However much you wish to
embellish her and pile on every good quality, I have decided that there is
nothing I should avoid as much as sex.”12 He opined that relations with a
woman degraded the masculine soul: “For I know that nothing so debases
a man’s soul as the charms of a woman and that bodily contact which is so
much a part of having a wife.”13 The same sexual pessimism is found in Au-
gustine’s parody of the words of Genesis 2:23—“and the two of them become
one flesh.” He wrote: “In intercourse man becomes all flesh.”14
No Sex in Paradise
The accounts of God’s creation of human sexuality spoke of marital inter-
course as a gift to be accepted with joy (Gen. 1:26; 2:18–25). Augustine con-
sistently rejected the notion that God intended human beings to experience joy
in sexual pleasure. For nearly forty years, from the publication of his work, On
the Morals of the Manichaeans in 388, to the completion of his masterwork,
34 Chapter 4
The City of God, in 426, Augustine had difficulty in understanding how sexual
intercourse was related to God’s plan for the human race.
Between 401 and 416 Augustine wrote The Literal Meaning of Genesis. He
initially speculated that Adam and Eve did not participate in sexual intercourse
until after they had sinned and were driven from Paradise. Augustine wrote:
“Why, then, did they not have intercourse until they had left Paradise?” He
answered: “The reason is that soon after the creation of the woman, before they
had relations, they committed the sin because of which they were destined to
die.”15 Augustine also speculated that the first man and woman were waiting for
God’s order to engage in intercourse.16 Augustine had falsely assumed that God
created Adam and Eve without sexual desire for each other. On the basis of that
assumption Augustine proposed that sexual desire was not an aspect of God’s
design for male and female: “For why should they not await God’s authoriza-
tion for this, since there was no drive of concupiscence coming from rebellious
flesh?”17 With such thoughts Augustine concluded that sexual intercourse was
“fundamentally alien to the original definition of humanity.”18
Another Idea: Before Sin No Desire or Pleasure in Intercourse

Augustine next proposed that Adam and Eve did engage in some form of
sexual relations while they were in Paradise but there was no experience of
sexual pleasure. The nature of sexual intercourse changed only after Adam
and Eve had sinned. Before Adam and Eve committed sin their sexual acts
were physiologically under the control of their wills. Adam simply willed his
erection; Eve willed her vagina to accept him. However, after they commit-
ted sin, their acts of sexual intercourse were corrupted by passion and desire.
Thus, the erotic element of sexual desire existed not because of the way God
created us male and female, but because of sin. Augustine described that
sexual desire as “concupiscence.”19
The biblical text “I will make him a helpmate” (Gen. 2:18) deeply puzzled
St. Augustine. He could not figure out how a woman could be a helpmate to
Adam. In the Garden of Paradise there was no need to till the earth, and, even
if there were such a need, “a male helper would be better” than a weak woman.
Augustine also thought that a male would better solve the problem of solitude:
“How much more agreeably could two male friends, rather than a man and
woman, enjoy companionship and conversation in a life shared together.”20
Augustine further speculated: “Surely no one will say that God was able
to make from the rib of the man only a woman and not also a man if He
had wished to do so.”21 One could conclude that if God had created humans
according to Augustine’s speculation, helping companionship would have
consisted in male friendship and no sex. However much Augustine wanted to
Augustine 35
exclude the human sexual dimension from the Garden of Paradise, his quest
was defeated by the biblical verse that referred to Eve as a “helpmate” (Gen.
2:18). Augustine yielded with these words: “I do not see in what sense the
woman was made a helper for the man if not for the sake of bearing chil-
dren.”22 A few pages later Augustine reasserted his conclusion: “I do not see,
therefore, in what other way the woman was made to be the helper of the man
if procreation is eliminated, and I do not understand why it should be elimi-
nated.”23 Genesis 2:18 persuaded Augustine to accept the idea that Adam and
Eve had engaged in sexual intercourse before they had committed sin.
Thus Augustine parted company with those who thought there was no sex
in Paradise. But Augustine then put forward a novel theological idea that has
haunted western Christianity ever since. He proposed that the dynamics of
sexual arousal and sexual desire did not exist before the first sin. Such was
Augustine’s theory of how sexual desire or “concupiscence”24 appeared on
the human scene.
Augustine viewed concupiscence as the source of all addictions: money,
power, success, pride, and especially sexual pleasure. Since concupiscence
was seen as such, Augustine reasoned that it did not come from God. There-
fore, concupiscence had to come from the first sin. Later on the bishop of
Hippo conjectured that concupiscence is passed on to everyone through the
original sin that infects all people. Augustine’s theory of a human nature
corrupted by concupiscence became so deeply embedded in the minds of
churchmen that it would take fifteen centuries before they recognized that
spouses could passionately express their sexual love for each other without
being guilty of “giving in” to lustful concupiscence.
Although the desire for sexual pleasure is normal and natural, Augustine’s
youthful experiences and his eccentric interpretation of the Scriptures had
convinced him that human sexual desire originated in sin. Thus he set the
stage for his unwarranted assumption that God created human beings without
sexual desire. It followed that, while in Eden, Adam and Eve did not engage
in sexual intimacy out of desire for deep communion with one another, but
only out of the desire for a third party, a child. If Adam and Eve had not
sinned, they and all their offspring would have passionlessly engaged in sex-
ual intercourse only to generate children. Augustine’s scenario for a romantic
evening in Paradise would have had Adam asking, “Eve, my dear, shall we
do something to increase the species tonight?”
The “Use” of Concupiscence

Genesis and Jesus had asserted that creation is good and both accepted
marriage and sexual intercourse as aspects of God’s creation. However,
36 Chapter 4
the church fathers began to defend marriage from the attacks of Gnostics,
Manichees, and other heretical groups by asserting that marriage itself was
good, but the sexual dynamic was not. Thus they split the one from the other
by proposing that God did not intend that human beings would experience
sexual pleasure in their marital acts. By the beginning of the fifth century,
Augustine set in stone the Stoic doctrine that sexual intercourse had only
one acceptable purpose: procreating children. We know that Augustine was
aware that some people disagreed with the idea that procreation was the sole
legitimate purpose of marital relations. He mentioned that in all his conversa-
tions with men who were married or had been married, he had never met a
husband who claimed that he engaged in marital relations only when hoping
to conceive a child.25
According to Augustine’s outlook on married sex, there was very little that
was good in such activity and a lot that was bad. This produced a problem:
If marital sex is morally tainted, then how can marriage be good? Augustine
walked a high tightrope to show that marriage can be good even though it
harbors concupiscence, one of the evil effects of the first sin. In two of his
treatises, The Good of Marriage and The Literal Meaning of Genesis, Augus-
tine tried to demonstrate that marriage was good while showing that sexual
desire was bad. So Augustine proposed this compromise: “For from the fact
that incontinence [experiencing sexual pleasure] is an evil it does not follow
that marriage is not good, even when by it an incontinent [sexually active]
couple are united in the flesh.”26
Augustine justified his theological analysis of marriage and concupiscence
by two maneuvers. First he developed new reasons that explained why mar-
riage is useful. In his second maneuver Augustine made provision for the
good use of the evil that is concupiscence.27 The “good use” of concupiscence
required husband and wife to budget their sexual appetites by using those ap-
petites only when procreation was the purpose of their sexual union.
In Marriage and Concupiscence Augustine argued that a couple’s de-
sire for privacy during their marital intimacies was a demonstration of the
couple’s shame. Since people were not ashamed of what is good, the experi-
ence of shame served as an admission of the couple’s sinful activity.28 The
cause of that shame was “the evil of the sex appetite.”29 However, Augustine
conditionally salvaged the legitimacy of marital relations by distinguishing
between shameful acts of intercourse on the one hand, and “the good of
praiseworthy relations from which children are begotten” on the other.30 His
conditional acceptance of marital sexuality is revealed in this telling distinc-
tion: “Those who use the shameful sex appetite licitly are making good use
of evil.”31 The reference to the licit (lawful) use of “the shameful sex appe-
tite” is Augustine’s adaptation of the Stoic rule: One may rightly engage in
Augustine 37
marital intercourse only for the sake of conceiving a child. Spouses engaging
in marital relations for any other reason than procreation were “making evil
use of evil.”32
Even before Augustine devised his theology of concupiscence, earlier
Christian authors had, “at least implicitly, connected sexuality with evil.”33
Augustine not only argued against the possibility that sexual pleasure was an
aspect of God’s creation, he also explicitly connected sexual pleasure with
evil. This connection would make it all but impossible for succeeding genera-
tions of churchmen to develop a spirituality of marital sexuality.
AUGUSTINE WRITES THE GOOD OF MARRIAGE
About 401 Augustine began to respond to the writings of Jovinian and St.
Jerome. Jerome was actively promoting virginity by demonizing marriage. On
the other hand, Jovinian (d. 406) was a Milanese monk who had taught that
people in the married state were equal in status to those who had embraced the
state of virginity.34 Jovinian’s teaching did not square with that of Bishop Am-
brose of Milan. He taught that “[m]arriage is honorable but celibacy is more
honorable; that which is good need not be avoided, but that which is better
should be chosen.”35
Pope36 Siricius (384–399) also faulted Jovinian. Siricius was trying to rid
the Catholic Church of married priests. He was of the opinion that those
who celebrated the Eucharist ought to be free from “the stain” of sexual
intercourse.37 Basing his opinion on Romans 8:8, “those who are in the flesh
cannot see God,” Pope Siricius concluded that virginity was superior to the
married state. Because Jovinian disagreed with this hierarchy of holiness, he
was deemed a heretic.
St. Jerome’s Adversus Jovinianum exalted the state of virginity by debas-
ing the married state. He declared that the “dirt of marriage” could barely be
washed away by blood that was shed in martyrdom.38 Regarding marital acts,
Jerome declared: “The activities of marriage itself, if they are not modest
. . . so that the only intention is children, are filth and lust.”39 “Dirt” is the
word that summed up Jerome’s opinion of every marital act that lacked a
procreative purpose. It might be noted that in his youth Jerome experienced a
great deal of sexual promiscuity.
So it was that various churchmen attacked Jovinian for asserting that peo-
ple in the married state were on equal footing with those who chose virginity.
But no one accused Jerome of heresy when he expressed his detestation for
marital intercourse. Augustine seems to have recognized that Jerome went
too far. Augustine’s book The Good of Marriage may be seen as an attempt
38 Chapter 4
to steer a course between Jerome’s debasement of marriage and Jovinian’s

placing the married state on a par with vowed virginity.
Offspring: The “First Good of Marriage”

We saw that in the second and third centuries the fathers of the church de-
fended marriage from the right-wing Gnostics by stressing the usefulness
of sexual intercourse in procreating children. At the beginning of the fifth
century Augustine came to the defense of marriage by adding the usefulness
of fidelity and the usefulness of sacrament to the long-accepted usefulness of
offspring. The heart of his book became the promotion of the three “goods”
of marriage—namely, “offspring, fidelity and sacrament.”40
The first “good” or usefulness of marriage is offspring: “For what food is
to the conservation of the man, this sexual intercourse is unto the conserva-
tion of the race.”41 By comparing eating for survival with marital intercourse,
Augustine denied the value of the sexual dimension of the relationship be-
tween husband and wife. Thus the conception of children would be “the one
alone worthy fruit . . . of the sexual intercourse.”42
By restricting marital intercourse to one “worthy fruit,” Augustine left a
difficult legacy to married couples. No other aspect of the marital act could
be described as “worthy.” Therefore, when a husband engaged in marital
relations during those times when his wife was pregnant, nursing, or men-
struating, the husband or the wife or both were seen as seeking the unworthy
fruit of sexual pleasure. Augustine set a disastrous precedent. From his day
to the twentieth century most churchmen regarded marital intercourse as sin-
ful whenever husband and wife “indulged” in marital intimacy without the
intention to conceive a child.
Fidelity: The “Second Good of Marriage”

According to Augustine, there were two forms of marital intercourse, the
necessary and the unnecessary. The only “necessary” marital intercourse was
intercourse for begetting. Such “intercourse for begetting is free from blame,
and itself is alone worthy of marriage.”43 “Unnecessary” or blameworthy
intercourse was simply lust: “But that which goes beyond this necessity, no
longer follows reason, but lust.”44
Fidelity was the second good use of marriage. Augustine found his scrip-
tural warrant for the good of “fidelity” in that crucial seventh chapter of First
Corinthians. Paul had written that “because of cases of immorality every
man should have his own wife, and every woman her own husband. The
husband should fulfill his duty toward his wife, and likewise the wife toward
Augustine 39
her husband” (1 Cor. 7:2–3). But Augustine misinterpreted Paul’s reference

to marital duty as a concession to the “evil habit” of spouses who desired
marital relations without the intention to procreate. Augustine derived that
conclusion from his view that intercourse “for the purpose of satisfying con-
cupiscence . . . is a venial sin” while “adultery or fornication . . . is a mortal
sin.”45 Thus a wife was not only useful for generating children but she was
also useful for providing her husband with a certain kind of sexual outlet.
She enabled her husband to commit light sins of intercourse for the purpose
of experiencing sexual delight instead of committing the more deadly sins of
seeking delight in fornication or adultery. The misreading of Paul had pro-
vided Augustine with a strange rationale for the good of fidelity: “Although
evil habits impel them to such intercourse yet marriage guards them from
adultery or fornication.”46
Sacrament: The “Third Good of Marriage”

In Augustine’s day, marriage did not rank as a sacrament in the same sense
that baptism or the Eucharist was. By “sacrament” Augustine meant that
marriage was a sign of an unbreakable commitment. By reason of sacrament
“it is unlawful for one who leaves her husband, even when she has been put
away, to be married to another, so long as her husband lives.”47 Functioning
in this way, the good of sacrament prevented married persons from leaving
their mates in order to marry someone else. Thus, “sacrament” was useful in
stabilizing society.
In developing his view of the three goods of marriage, Augustine over-
looked what many contemporary theologians see as another “good,” namely,
the good of spouses sharing communion in sexual pleasure. Augustine saw
marital delight as evil. Therefore he concluded that marital intercourse could
be totally excluded from marriage without doing any harm to the marriage it-
self. Augustine found the three goods of marriage exemplified in the virginal
marriage of Mary and Joseph: “This is why I said the full number of the three
goods of marriage is found in what I declared by the Gospel was a marriage:
‘Faithfulness, because no adultery; offspring, our Lord Christ; and sacrament,
because no divorce.’”48
Procreation Is Good, but Platonism Is Better

Augustine had his own hierarchy of moral values. Engaging in intercourse
with one’s spouse because of sexual need and/or desire occupied the bottom
rung of Augustine’s ladder of marital morality. This was a slight or “light
sin.” Higher up was intercourse to generate children, exemplifying the good
40 Chapter 4
use of the evil of concupiscence. Here there was no sin. Then came the top
rung. Couples engaging in “angelic exercise” had “freedom from all sexual
intercourse.”49 Augustine proposed that “continence from all intercourse is
certainly better than marital intercourse itself which takes place for the sake
of begetting children.”50 The good of offspring was expendable when the
greatest good of avoiding marital intercourse was chosen!
Adapting Platonic modes of thought, Augustine offered married couples
some suggestions for ridding the elements of sexual desire and sexual plea-
sure from their lives. He proposed that a person’s love of heavenly realities
would develop in direct proportion to a person’s hatred of earthly realities.
Since there would be no sexual intercourse in the next life, Augustine con-
cluded the virtuous husband would do well to hate sexual union in this earthly
life. The bishop of Hippo wanted the husband to “love” the spouse created
by God while hating “the corruptible and mortal relationship and marital
intercourse.”51 St. Augustine reiterated: “In other words, it is evident that he
loves her insofar as she is a human being, but he hates her under the aspect
of wifehood.”52
AUGUSTINE: “THE FATHER OF PELVIC ANXIETY”
Augustine had devised the opposite of a spirituality of sexuality. He could

not or would not see the point of the biblical refrain “and God saw that it
was good” (Gen 1:4, 10, 12, 18, 21, 25, and 31). The idea of marriage as a
partnership in which sexual tenderness played a role is totally absent from
Augustine’s writings. In his opinion, married persons who loved passionately
exceeded “the bounds of moderation” and heaped up “the uncleanness of a
more bestial intemperance.”53
Augustine wanted a strict control over the act of marital intercourse “lest
there be indulgence beyond what suffices for generating offspring.”54 Marital
chastity demanded an end to spousal intercourse when a wife was “no longer
able to conceive on account of age.”55 In sum, the only time marital inter-
course was good or lawful was the one instance when the married couple used
their marriage bed as a place to conceive a child.
The Pelagian Controversy and Original Sin

Pelagius (350–425), a British monk teaching in Rome, had proposed an opti-
mistic view of human nature that included human freedom and a capacity for
doing good. Pelagius publicly disagreed with Augustine’s pessimistic portrait
of humankind badly crippled by sin. In 415 Augustine attacked. By this time
Augustine 41
in his life Augustine had become a battle-hardened foe of heretics. He had

defeated the Manichees and crushed the Donatists. When Pelagius began
to oppose Augustine’s personal experience and interpretations of the Bible,
Augustine set out to destroy this challenger.
Although Tertullian (d. 225) had used the term “original sin,” Christian-
ity had no specific doctrine of original sin from the first century through the
fourth. The New Testament clearly stated that the purpose of baptism was
to forgive the sins a person had committed prior to becoming a Christian.
Contrary to Augustine, Pelagius had concluded that infants did not sin and
therefore infants would not go to hell if they died without baptism.
The biblical core of St. Augustine’s theory of original sin centered on the
account of the sin of Adam and Eve (Gen. 3) and St. Paul’s assertion that
“through one person sin entered the world” (Rom. 5:12). Although Genesis
and the letter to the Romans did not use the term “original sin” and never
referred to “a fall from previous grace,”56 Augustine inserted his particular
notion of original sin into these scripture texts. Thus he conjectured “that
by his sin Adam fell from his original supernatural status, and that through
human propagation, which involved concupiscence, the lack of grace was
passed on to every human being descended from Adam.”57 In his confron-
tation with Pelagius, Augustine’s emerging ideas concerning the effects of
Adam and Eve’s sin took on hard, clear connections involving sex, sin, and
shame.
When he was a Manichaean, Augustine believed it was permissible to seek
sexual pleasure as long as he avoided procreation. After his conversion to
Christianity, Augustine reversed these two elements, rejecting sexual plea-
sure while affirming procreation. Ironically, part of Augustine’s theory of
original sin clearly manifests a reworking of Manichaean theology. Accord-
ing to that theology, the captured particles of light contained in human semen
were passed on whenever a person was conceived. Reversing this mythology
to suit his purposes, Augustine proposed that original sin was passed on to
persons at their conceptions. When spouses conceived a child, they passed on
the effects of Adam’s original sin. Thus every human being received a human
nature deformed by Adam’s sin.
Eventually, Augustine’s theology of original sin was “received,” that is,
accepted, as doctrine by the Catholic Church. His version of original sin
helped to resolve three issues. First, his theory explained the increasingly
frequent practice of baptizing infants. Secondly, his theory explained why
concupiscence remained even after baptism. This sacrament removed original
sin, but not its effects. Thirdly, Augustine’s pessimistic theory of original sin
provided a weapon that could be used to defeat Pelagius’ optimistic teachings
about the basic goodness of human nature.
42 Chapter 4
Original Sin, Sex, and Shame

The account of Adam and Eve’s recognition of their nakedness and their subse-
quent sewing of fig leaves to make loincloths (Gen. 3:7) led Augustine to con-
clude that the human genitals were the means of transmitting original sin. He
asserted: “The truth, however, is, that we are ashamed of that very thing which
made those primitive human beings ashamed, when they covered their loins,
namely their genital organs.”58 The reason why people wanted privacy when
engaging in intercourse, Augustine argued, was that the marital act is shameful
because it is sinful.59 Eloquently venting his disapproval of concupiscence, sex,
and the human genital organs, Augustine scolded: “That is the penalty of sin;
that is the plague and mark of sin; that is the temptation and very fuel of sin;
that is the law in our members warring against the law of our mind; that is the
rebellion against our own selves, proceeding from our very selves, which by a
most righteous retribution is rendered us by our disobedient members.”60
Augustine had theorized that in Eden the sexual act was totally under the
control of the wills of both Adam and Eve because they possessed “the highest
tranquility of all the obedient members without any lust.”61 Augustine thought
that neither the man nor the woman needed the stirrings of sexual arousal to
perform the act that would conceive a child. Therefore he concluded that the
human experience of sexual arousal was the effect of the concupiscence that
resulted from the first sin. Prior to that sin the man “would have sown the
seed, and the woman received it, as need required, the generative organs be-
ing moved by the will, not excited by lust.”62 Human sexual arousal was both
a reminder of and a punishment for the first sin.
The False “Problem” of Sexual Pleasure

The “problem of sexual pleasure” is a false problem. It sprang from the fact
that Augustine’s arguments based on usefulness did not take into account the
goodness of sexual delight. Seeing no utility in sexual pleasure, Augustine
perceived sexual pleasure as a result of the first sin. Denying or at least re-
stricting marital pleasure had to be virtuous and meritorious.
So, when Augustine spoke of concupiscence as a “good use of an evil,”
he meant that concupiscence (the desire for sexual pleasure) could serve as a
lure to procreate. Augustine, as well as all the bishops and theologians who
followed his thought, never welcomed marital pleasure at the front door. Ac-
ceptance of the pleasures of the marriage bed did not even enter by the back
door. Rather, sexual pleasure in marriage took the form of elopement in re-
verse. Marital pleasure had to be sneaked into marriage by means of a ladder
resting against the upstairs bedroom window. That ladder was Augustine’s
idea that although conjugal pleasure was an evil, it was a useful evil.
Augustine 43
In his book On Marriage and Concupiscence, Augustine pointed out that

concupiscence was comparable to a man’s limp. A limping man could still
reach his destination. Reaching that destination was good, but the limp was
not good. In marital relations the destination was the good of procreation.
But the pleasurable orgasm that enabled conception to take place was, like
the limp, not good.63 The pleasure of sexual spontaneity, like the man’s limp,
was a drag.
Two Unwarranted Assumptions

The gratuitous assumptions contained in Augustine’s views on original sin
significantly contributed to the attitude of sexual anxiety that would hinder
the development of a spirituality of marital sexuality in western Christianity.
Augustine’s first assumption was that Adam and Eve did not participate in
sexual intercourse, as we human beings know it, until after they had sinned.
Working with that speculation, Augustine theorized that in Eden the geni-
tal organs “would be set in motion at the command of the will; and without
the active stimulus of passion, with calmness of mind and with no corrupt-
ing of the integrity of the body, the husband would lie on the bosom of his
wife.”64 Perhaps Augustine thought that the force of gravity would have
carried Adam’s semen into Eve’s womb. But, after the first sin, whenever
married partners felt the desire for sexual union with each other, they were
said to be experiencing the corrupting influence of lust at work in their sin-
blighted bodies.
Augustine’s second gratuitous assumption was his belief that the act of
sexual intercourse was instrumental in passing on original sin. Augustine’s
proof text came from Psalm 51: “In iniquity I was conceived” (Ps. 51:7).
Augustine looked at the psalmist’s prayer of remorse and gave it a universal
application: everybody was conceived in sin! Ignoring those texts of Gen-
esis that asserted the goodness of sexual intercourse and its blessed fertility,
Augustine made the assumption that every person after Adam and Eve was
conceived in iniquity.
Implications
Because Augustine connected human sinfulness with human sexuality, his as-
sumptions tainted every act of marital intercourse undertaken after Adam and
Eve’s sin. Augustine universalized the effects of that sin by including every
person who would ever be conceived. As late as 1930 Pope Pius XI echoed
Augustine’s teaching in his Casti Connubii: “Indeed, the natural generation
of life has become the path of death by which original sin is communicated
to the children.”65
44 Chapter 4
Augustine and the North African bishops condemned Pelagius and his fol-
lowers in 416. In the following year Pope Innocent excommunicated Pelagius
for implying that human beings were basically good and did not need the
grace of God to attain salvation.
BISHOP JULIAN’S CRITIQUE OF

AUGUSTINE’S THEORY OF CONCUPISCENCE
In 418 Bishop Julian of Eclanum, Italy, objected to Augustine’s view that

unbaptized infants shared in the guilt of Adam’s sin and therefore deserved
eternal punishment in hell if they died. Julian also disagreed with Augustine’s
views on marriage and concupiscence.
Julian had been a married cleric. When Julian read the pertinent texts of
Genesis, he concluded that human sexual desire as experienced by the people
of his day was no different from the sexual desire that accompanied men and
women from the time that God had created them. Julian accused Augustine
of being “an impenitent Manichee, more influenced than he himself realized
by his decade under Mani’s spell, hating the Creator’s handiwork.”66
Julian disagreed with Augustine’s claims that the source of concupiscence
was sin and that the sinfulness of sexual activity was demonstrated by the fact
that couples engaging in sex do not want to be observed by others. Julian’s
critique was simple and direct. He pointed out that Augustine’s whole theory
about concupiscence, sexual desire, shame, and the passing on of original sin
through the human genitals was almost exclusively based on one biblical text,
the text that referred to Adam and Eve making loincloths out of fig leaves
(Gen. 3:7). But Julian saw sexual desire as “a drive in our bodies made by
God.”67 Augustine’s theory was wrong because it was based on the idea that
the sexual drive was “placed deep within us by the Devil.”68 Julian pointed
out that Augustine made his “whole doctrine stand or fall upon little more
than the discreet behavior that surrounds the sexual act.”69
After Augustine said he wanted to know more about Julian’s objections,
Julian replied: “You ask me why I would not consent to the idea that there
is a sin that is part of human nature. I answer: it is improbable. It is untrue.
It is unjust and impious. It makes it seem as if the devil were the maker of
men.”70 Julian also critiqued Augustine’s theory because it destroyed “the
freedom of the will . . . by saying that men are so incapable of virtue that
in the very womb of their mothers they are filled with bygone sins . . . and,
what is disgusting as it is blasphemous, this view of yours fastens, as its
most conclusive proof, on the common decency with which we cover our
Augustine 45
genitals.”71 Expressing an attitude of unconditional acceptance of God’s

creative design, Julian accurately perceived the problems with Augustine’s
theory.
Augustine Crushes Julian

Julian proposed that the sexual dynamic was a form of human energy that
could be used for either good purposes or bad. Thus, sexual pleasure was
“acceptable” in itself, and “censurable only in its excesses.”72 Bitterly reject-
ing Julian’s reasoning, Augustine declared: “You say: ‘The reason for the
existence of the sexes is the union of bodies,’ and you want me to concede
this to you. I do not concede it.”73 Augustine was particularly upset with
Julian’s claim that a married couple’s sexual desire is acceptable when “ex-
ercised honestly.”74 Calling incontinence “the mother of all vices,” Augustine
referred to St. Paul’s wanting more than mere avoidance of fornication but
also “a certain moderation in marriage itself,” which would be attained by
setting aside “times of prayer.”75 Further rebuking Julian, the bishop of Hippo
scolded: “You notice how you should understand with us in what disease of
desire the Apostle was unwilling that one possess his vessel. . . . But to you
lust seems culpable only toward one other than one’s wife.”76
Augustine then accusingly asked, “Who, then, honors marriage more: you,
when you deface its dignity by making it a blameless wallowing place of
carnal concupiscence; or he who . . . recalls that the Apostle recommended
times of prayer and abstinence from the pleasure of lust, and who does not
wish husbands and wives to be given up to that disease whence original sin
is contracted?”77 In this response all the notes of Augustine’s pessimistic
theme song were sounded. We see here Augustine’s theory of “original sin,”
his distaste for the “disease” of desire, his condemnation of “the pleasure of
lust,” and his revulsion for marital relations, which he called the “wallowing
place of carnal concupiscence.”
On the other hand, Julian wanted to show that Augustine’s theology of
original sin was deficient by having Augustine choose between two posi-
tions. Julian asked Augustine to state whether the parents, who might be
baptized Christians, caused the original sin present in every infant or to state
that the original sin was caused by the marital act itself. Logical as these two
positions were, Augustine realized that he could not accept either of them
without becoming a heretic himself. Refusing to answer, he clung to his
elaborate theological system in which concupiscence and its accompanying
sexual pleasure were the evil effects of the first sin that remained even after
baptism.
46 Chapter 4
Julian was driven from his diocese in 419. Nevertheless, he and Augustine
continued to debate until 431, their bitter exchange of views only terminating
with Augustine’s death.
The Winner: Augustine; Losers: Married Folk

Augustine was something like a Jack-the-Giant-Killer of heretics. Clothed
with the authority of orthodoxy, the bishop of Hippo had a powerful reputa-
tion and rhetorical skills to match. Julian, by opposing Augustine, had placed
himself in a tenuous alignment with Pelagius’ optimistic perception of hu-
man nature. Augustine had demonstrated that Pelagius was a heretic. The
confrontation between Julian and Augustine proved to be decisive regard-
ing who would have the final say about the purposes of marital intercourse.
Julian, with his moderate view of the naturalness of marital sexuality, lost.
Augustine’s pessimistic interpretation of both the Bible and human nature
won not only the day but also the millennium and more.
In the centuries that followed Augustine’s death, western Christian leaders
thought that the days of creative theologizing had been completed. Augustine,
having totally defeated Pelagius and Julian, had crushed the kind of schol-
arly effort that reexamines accepted theories and conclusions. The decline of
learning that had followed the decline of the Roman Empire in the west led
to the conclusion that Augustine’s huge literary output was an unsurpassable
intellectual achievement.
It is one of those ironies of history that Augustine, the one who defended
marriage against the attacks of both heretical Manichees and Catholic ascetics
such as Jerome, became the father of the attitude of pelvic anxiety in western
Christianity. Joseph Martos summed up that irony: Augustine “was the first
and only patristic author to write exclusively about sex and marriage, and in
the end he affirmed that marriage was good even though sex was not.”78
NOTES
1. Augustine, Confessions (Baltimore, Md.: Penguin Books, 1961), Book III, l. 55.
2. Augustine, Confessions VI, 15, 131.
3. Augustine, Confessions VI, 15, 131.
4. Augustine, Confessions IV, 2, 72.
5. Augustine, Confessions IV, 2, 72.
6. Henry Chadwick, Augustine: A Very Short Introduction (New York: Oxford
University Press, 2001), 12.
7. Details on Manichaeanism can also be found in Robert Haardt, “Manichaeism,”
in Adolf Darlap, general editor, Sacramentum Mundi, Vol. III (New York: Herder and
Augustine 47
Herder, 1969), 372–75; also John Noonan, Contraception (New York: New American
Library, 1965), 137–44.
8. Augustine, On the Morals of the Manichaeans, in The Nicene and Post-Nicene
Fathers, Vol. IV, ed. Philip Schaff (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publish-
ing Company, 1979), chapter 18, 65, 86.
Fathers, Vol. IV, 86–87.
Fathers, Vol. IV, 86–87; chapter 18, 65, 86.
11. Augustine of Hippo, Soliloquies, trans. Kim Paffenroth, ed. John E. Rotelle,
O.S.A. (New York: New City Press, 2000), 38.
12. Augustine of Hippo, Soliloquies, 38.
13. Augustine of Hippo, Soliloquies, 38.
14. Augustine of Hippo, Sermons 62.2, cited in John Noonan, Contraception (New
York: The New American Library, 1965), 159.
15. Johannes Quasten, Walter Burghardt, and Thomas Lawler, eds., Ancient Chris-
tian Writers: The Works of the Fathers in Translation. St. Augustine: The Literal
Meaning of Genesis, trans. John Hammond Taylor, S.J. (Ramsey: Paulist Press, 1982),
Book IX, chapter 4, 8, 74.
16. Quasten, Burghardt, and Lawler, Ancient Christian Writers: The Literal Mean-
ing of Genesis, 75.
ing of Genesis, 75.
1988), 399.
19. Augustine, Marriage and Concupiscence, in Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers,
Vol. V, ed. Phillip Schaff (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Com-
pany, 1978), 1, 18, 21.
ing of Genesis, Book IX, 5, 9, 75.
24. In his youth Augustine had read Virgil’s classic work, The Aeneid. Cupid, the
god of erotic passion, inflames the heart of Aeneas with sexual desire for Dido. “Con-
cupiscence” is thus associated with Cupid and denotes ardent sexual desire. Today
Cupid still survives in St. Valentine’s Day cards, but reduced to an infantile winged
figure with a tiny bow and arrow.
25. Augustine, The Good of Marriage, in Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers,
Volume III, ed. Philip Schaff (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing
Company, 1978), 15, 406.
48 Chapter 4
28. Augustine, Anti-Pelagian Writings, in Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Vol.
V, ed. Philip Schaff (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Company,
1971), 22, 291.
29. Augustine, Anti-Pelagian Writings, 291.
33. Samuel Laeuchli, Power and Sexuality: The Emergence of Canon Law at the
Synod of Elvira (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1972), 103.
34. Roy J. Deferrari, ed., “Saint Augustine: Treatises on Marriage and Other
Subjects,” in The Fathers of the Church (New York: Fathers of the Church, Inc.,
1955), 3.
35. Paul Johnson, History of Christianity (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1976),
109.
36. Historian Carol Ann Cannon would not use the title “pope” for a bishop of
Rome before the year 1100. “Pope” was a common title for most bishops prior to
that time.
37. Peter Brown, The Body and Society, 358.
38. Jerome, Against Jovinianus in The Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Vol. VI,
ed. Philip Schaff and Henry Wace (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publish-
ing Company, 1979), Book I, 26, 366.
39. Jerome, Commentary on the Epistle to the Galatians, in Joseph E. Kerns, S.J.,
The Theology of Marriage (New York: Sheed & Ward, 1964), 42.
40. Augustine, The Good of Marriage, 32, 412.
45. Deferrari, “Saint Augustine: Treatises on Marriage and Other Subjects,” 6, 17.
48. Roy Joseph Deferrari, ed., The Fathers of the Church: Saint Augustine against
Julian, trans. Matthew A. Schumacher, C.S.C. (New York: The Fathers of the
Church, Inc., 1957), 3, 21, 288.
49. Deferrari, The Fathers of the Church: Saint Augustine against Julian, 8, 403.
50. Deferrari, “Saint Augustine: Treatises on Marriage and Other Subjects,” in The
Fathers of the Church, 6, 17.
51. Roy J. Deferrari, ed., “Saint Augustine: Commentary on the Lord’s Sermon on
the Mount,” trans. Denis Kavanagh, O.S.A., The Fathers of the Church, Vol. 11 (New
York: Fathers of the Church, Inc., 1951), 15, 41, 61.
Augustine 49
52. Deferrari, “Saint Augustine: Commentary on the Lord’s Sermon on the Mount,”
The Fathers of the Church, 62.
53. Deferrari, “Saint Augustine: Commentary on the Lord’s Sermon on the
Mount,” The Fathers of the Church, 19, 28, 139.
54. Deferrari, The Fathers of the Church: Saint Augustine against Julian, 3, 21,
43, 145.
43, 145.
56. Raymond Brown, An Introduction to the New Testament (New York: Double-
day & Co., 1997), 580.
57. Brown, An Introduction to the New Testament, 580.
Vol. V, ed. Philip Schaff (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Com-
pany, 1978), Book 2, 22, 291.
59. Augustine, The City of God, trans. Marcus Dodds, D.D. (New York: Random
House, 1993 Modern Library Edition), Book 14, 17–18, 465–67.
60. Augustine, Marriage and Concupiscence, Book 2, 22, 291.
61. Philip Schaff, ed., “Against Two Letters of the Pelagians,” in A Select Library
of the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian Church, Vol. V, Saint Au-
gustine: Anti-Pelagian Writings (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing
Co., 1971) chapter 35, 388.
62. Augustine, The City of God, Book XIV, 24, 472.
Book 1, 8, 266–67.
64. Augustine, The City of God, 475.
65. Michael J. Byrnes, trans., Papal Teachings (Boston: The Daughters of St. Paul,
1963), 226.
66. Chadwick, Augustine: A Very Short Introduction, 120.
67. Julian, Opus Imperfectum 3, 142: 1303, cited by Peter Brown, The Body and
Society, 412.
Society, 412.
Society, 413.
70. Augustine, Against Julian 3, 14, 28, cited in Paul Johnson, A History of Chris-
tianity (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1976), 121.
71. Augustine, Against Julian 3, 14, 28, cited in Paul Johnson, A History of Chris-
tianity, 121.
72. Deferrari, The Fathers of the Church: Saint Augustine against Julian, 4, 2, 7,
171.
16, 120.
28, 131.
50 Chapter 4
20, 80.
20, 80.
20, 80–81.
78. Joseph Martos, Doors to the Sacred (Garden City, N.Y.: Image Books, 1982),
416.
5
Monks, Theologians, Bishops, and
Popes Disparage Marital Intercourse
ISIDORE, BISHOP OF SEVILLE
Between the end of the Patristic Age in the 600s and the rise of the universi-
ties in the 1100s the Catholic Church developed various forms of legislation
on marriage. That legislation was based on the theology of marriage that had
been articulated by Augustine in such treatises as The Good of Marriage and
Marriage and Concupiscence. During the six centuries following Augustine’s
death, churchmen basically repeated what the fathers had written.
Isidore (ca. 560–636) is one of those special theologians honored with the
title of “doctor of the church.” Like Augustine, Isidore believed that mar-
riage as God intended it to be was different from marriage as it now existed.
It seems that Isidore’s standard for evaluating “true marriages” was the Stoic
rule. In a true marriage “couples seek not pleasure but offspring.”1 Neither
pleasure nor spontaneity was useful: “Therefore when a person is more sexu-
ally active than [is] needed for . . . procreation, he sins.”2 St. Isidore’s theology
of marriage was a repetition of Augustine’s. It seems that both theologians
wanted spouses to ask each other this question: “How far can we go in limiting
the bodily expression of our affection for each other?”
“CONFESSION”: AN IRISH INNOVATION
During the sixth and seventh centuries the Irish monks introduced the practice
of making the sacrament of reconciliation more available to Christians. For
nearly three hundred years, from the fourth century through the sixth century,
the leaders of the Catholic Church taught that grave sins committed after
51
52 Chapter 5
baptism could be forgiven only once. Putting off the reception of forgiveness
until they were on their deathbeds, many Christians were never reconciled.
Following the lead of St. Patrick, European missionaries went to Ireland
in the fifth and sixth centuries. The converted Irish did not wholeheartedly
embrace the church’s moral norms. So the Irish sinned, hoping to receive the
church’s ritual of forgiveness on their deathbeds. Seeing the need to innovate,
the Irish monks developed a new form of granting forgiveness. It consisted
in listening to a person’s recitation of sins, prescribing a “penance” to be
performed, and then praying for the sinner’s forgiveness. The monks allowed
a private act of penance or “satisfaction” as a substitute for the traditional
imposition of a humiliating public penance. Thus the sacrament of reconcili-
ation could be received as many times as the penitent asked for forgiveness.
The Penitential Manuals/Sanctions for

Sins Related to Marital Intercourse
The monk who heard the penitent’s confession of sins needed to know what
kind of penance or satisfaction to require from the repentant sinner. Small
manuals called “penitentials” were written. These manuals listed the various
kinds of sins and the penance to be performed for each particular sin. The
assigned penance was usually a number of days, months, or years of fasting
on bread and water on certain days of the week, usually Wednesdays and
Fridays.3 There could be no reception of the Eucharist until the penance was
completed. The amount of penance prescribed corresponded to the gravity of
the sin. A light sin would require only a few days or weeks of fasting; a grave
or serious sin would require months or years.
The penances prescribed for sins related to marital intercourse demonstrate
a further development of the negative attitude toward marital relations. The
penitential manual of Pseudo-Bede (written about 750) prescribed seven
years of fasting for using a contraceptive potion while prescribing only four
years of fasting for the murder of a layperson.4
TIMES WHEN MARITAL INTERCOURSE WAS FORBIDDEN
The monks saw certain biblical passages as imposing sexual abstinence on

the married. God had commanded Moses to tell the Hebrew people that they
must refrain from sexual intercourse for three days prior to the covenant
agreement at Mount Sinai (Exod. 19:9–15). The monks were also aware of
St. Paul’s recommendation of a period of sexual abstinence so that husband
and wife could pray (1 Cor. 7:3–5). So the monks introduced another innova-
Monks, Theologians, Bishops, and Popes Disparage Marital Intercourse 53
tion into the western church—namely, specific periods of time when married
couples had to refrain from marital relations.
Finnian, a sixth-century Irish monk, wrote a confessor’s handbook that
required spouses to abstain from marital intercourse during the forty days
before Christmas, the forty days before Easter, the forty days after Pente-
cost, and every Saturday or Sunday night.5 Finnian held that abstention from
marital intercourse was obligatory on the basis of twin premises: 1) mar-
riage without abstinence was sinful, and 2) God did not give marriage for
the purpose of lust but only for the purpose of procreating children. Finnian
declared that “marriage without continence is not lawful, but sin.”6 As his
rationale Finnian gave “the authority of God” who permitted marriage “not
for lust but for the sake of children, as it is written, ‘and the two shall be in
one flesh,’ that is, in unity of the flesh for the generation of children, not for
the lustful concupiscence of the flesh.”7 Finnian also concluded that couples
should practice sexual abstinence from the time a child was conceived until
after the child was born.
The next generation of penitential manuals added even more periods of
sexual abstinence. The Irish Penitential of Cummean (seventh century) added
Wednesdays and Fridays, time-honored penitential days, to the growing
number of days on which marital intercourse was forbidden. In addition to
Finnian’s idea that sexual abstinence should be practiced during the entire
period of a woman’s pregnancy, Cummean also found a biblical justification
for adding days of sexual abstinence to the period after the child’s birth. Ac-
cording to the book of Leviticus, Moses had declared that it took thirty-three
days for a woman’s blood to be purified after she gave birth to a boy and
sixty-six days for her blood to be purified after giving birth to a girl (Lev.
12:1–5). Cummean concluded that Christian husbands and wives ought to
refrain from sexual relations for the corresponding number of days after the
birth of a male or female child.8
Theodore, an eighth-century Anglo-Saxon monk, was not to be outdone by
the Irish in the imposition of days of sexual abstinence on husband and wife.
Theodore declared that spouses should also abstain from sexual relations for
three nights before receiving the Eucharist. Theodore’s penitential manual
introduced another significant innovation. He declared that there should be
sanctions applied to those spouses who did not observe the times of sexual
abstinence: “Whoever has sexual relations at these times must do penance for
twenty days.”9 Engaging in marital intercourse on Sunday was also punish-
able, but the prescribed penance was only for one to three days.
Egbert, another Anglo-Saxon monk, authored his penitential book about
fifty years after Theodore. After borrowing heavily from Theodore’s work,
Egbert increased the penalties for those spouses who had marital relations
54 Chapter 5
on the forbidden days from one to three days to “forty days, or thirty, or
twenty.”10
FORBIDDEN FORMS OF MARITAL INTIMACY
The authors of the penitential manuals also outlawed certain sexual positions
because they were “not natural.” While interrogating penitents, confessors
might say: “The natural manner is that, if a man has intercourse with a woman
he always take the superior position, with the woman lying below. Have you
acted otherwise?”11
It was also a sin to enter one’s wife from behind. When the penitential
books mentioned these sins, the commonly assigned penance was forty days
of fasting on bread and water. According to Egbert, if spouses regularly used
the sexual position in which the wife did not place herself below her husband,
the penance to be given to both was three years of fasting on bread and wa-
ter. It appears that Egbert thought that such dorsal intercourse might impede
conception.12
The idea of having to abstain from marital relations on Sundays and holy
days was probably derived from St. Paul’s concession to the Corinthian ascet-
ics that allowed them to abstain from sexual relations in order “to be free for
prayer” (1 Cor. 7:5). By the end of the eighth century the writers of penitential
books had turned Paul’s concession upside-down. In the place of a married
couple’s choosing to abstain in order to pray, church leaders began to forbid
marital relations on days designated as times for prayer.
The penitential handbooks had instructed the confessors and the confes-
sors instructed the married laity. Having no say in such matters, the married
were simply informed that they sinned if they made love during a period of
required abstinence; they sinned if they engaged in relations using forbidden
sexual positions; and, finally, they sinned if they enjoyed sexual pleasure in
their acts of marital intimacy.
POPE GREGORY THE GREAT SPEAKS OUT
By the early Middle Ages many churchmen had developed a marital spiritu-
ality teaching that prayer and marital sex were mutually exclusive. Marital
intercourse was regarded, for all practical and theological purposes, as in-
dulging in lust. Caesarius, bishop of Arles (470–543), proposed that newly
married couples avoid entering a church for a period of thirty days after their
marriage.13 Pope Gregory the Great, one of only three popes to have earned
the title of “great” after his name, was elected bishop of Rome in 590. Greg-
ory adopted Augustine’s rule that marital intercourse is sinful unless it was
undertaken for the purpose of procreating a child. Gregory even surpassed
Augustine’s rigorist perspective by declaring that, if husband and wife expe-
rienced any pleasure “mixed” with their act of intercourse, they “transgressed
the law of marriage.”14
When it came to marital intimacy, Pope Gregory was also more rigorous
than Augustine. Even if the husband and wife had the intention to procreate a
child in their act of marital intercourse, any experience of pleasure “befouled”
the couple’s intercourse.15 It appears that the only sinless act of marital inter-
course was one in which the husband and wife intended to conceive a child
while managing to avoid feeling sexual pleasure.
The archbishop of Canterbury wrote a letter asking Pope Gregory whether
a husband, after engaging in marital intimacy, must wash and wait for a pe-
riod of time before he could enter a church. Pope Gregory is reported to have
replied, “Sexual pleasure can never be without sin.”16 However, while sexual
pleasure could never be free of sin, some theologians thought that marital
intercourse might be free of pleasure. It was a case of less being more: the
less pleasure, the more spiritual goodness.
It is doubtful that Pope Gregory actually wrote that “sexual pleasure can
never be without sin.” Nevertheless, from the late sixth century until well
into the twentieth, churchmen had accepted as fact Pope Gregory’s recorded
answer to the archbishop of Canterbury’s question. Thus, for twelve centu-
ries this pope’s alleged negative assessment of marital intimacy served to
strengthen the theological conviction that each act of marital intercourse was
associated not with goodness, but with sin.
OTHER MEDIEVAL CHURCHMEN

DISPARAGE MARITAL INTERCOURSE
Because early medieval writers perceived sexual activity as driven by lust,

they disapproved of sexual activity even in marriage. The church historian,
Venerable Bede (673–735), stated that in the first age of the world humankind
was propagated by the union of men and women. However, in “the last age
of history” God has “taken manhood from the flesh of the Virgin . . . to prove
that He loves the glory of virginity more than marriage.”17
St. Paul stated that a married couple could engage in prayer or intercourse
without the one interfering with the other (1 Cor. 7:1–5). But Venerable Bede
saw this text as a reminder “that prayer is hindered by the marital duty, be-
cause as often as one renders the debt to his wife he is unable to pray.”18 We
56 Chapter 5
see in Bede’s declaration two contending themes introduced by the church

fathers. On the one hand, marriage in its ideal and hypothetical condition was
good. But, on the other hand, marriage in its actual historical condition was
viewed as “wounded and sick.”19
Referring to one of the legends associated with the wedding feast at Cana,
Alcuin reported that the bridegroom at that wedding feast was none other
than John the beloved apostle. Having seen the miraculous power of Jesus in
his changing water into wine, John left his bride in order to follow Jesus. Of
course, John did so before consummating his marriage, thus preserving his
virginity.20
In 866, Pope Nicholas I wrote a letter to Boris, prince of Bulgaria. To
provide a rationale for abstaining from marital relations on Sundays and holy
days, Nicholas the Great wrote: “If we must abstain from worldly labor on
Sundays, how much the more must we be on our guard against fleshly lust
and every bodily defilement.”21 As did Pope Siricius in the fourth century
and Pope Gregory I in the sixth century, this ninth-century pope was of the
opinion that St. Paul’s condemnation of “the sins of the flesh” was aimed at
sexual pleasure.
What about those few who claimed that sexual pleasure was good because
God created it? Bishop Halitgar set them straight by declaring: “God did
not create men and women so that they might enjoy carnal desire or live in
the delights of the flesh.”22 To strengthen his argument, Halitgar repeated
Augustine’s assumption: “And if there had been no transgression of God’s
command, no one would experience carnal pleasure in the intercourse of the
married.”23 The bishop then summed up his perspective: “Carnal pleasure
is an uncleanness of the body which comes from uncontrolled lust and the
weakness of the soul which gives in to the sin of the flesh.”24
FORBIDDING MARITAL RELATIONS BEFORE AND

AFTER RECEIVING THE EUCHARIST
The negative attitude toward marital relations expressed by Pope Nicholas I

and Bishop Halitgar was also manifested in the opinions of other early me-
dieval theologians who thought that sexual relations somehow made spouses
ritually “unclean.” Sexually active married people were sometimes discour-
aged from entering a church or from receiving the Eucharist. Jonas, bishop of
Orleans from 818 to 843, scolded married folk for “irreverently coming” to
church after engaging in marital relations.25 Not only were these married folk
“so indiscreet as to come up as far as the altar,” lamented Jonas, but they also
received “the body and blood of Christ.”26 Jonas warned those soiled with the
“uncleanness” of their marital activity: “Let them understand that they should
only enter Christ’s church and receive His body and blood with a clean body
and a pure heart.”27
Those churchmen who commented on marriage saw that state of life as
little more than a remedy for concupiscence. Whenever the state of conse-
crated virginity and the state of marriage were compared, they seemed to
fall into one of two categories, the nice or the naughty. Such words as “con-
tinent,” “clean,” “pure,” “chaste,” “angelic,” “holy,” “decent,” “heavenly,”
“virginal,” “spiritual,” and “virtuous” referred to the state in which sexual
activity is absent. In the state where sexual activity was present one finds such
descriptive words as “incontinent,” “lustful,” “earthly,” “unclean,” “dirty,”
“impure,” “lewd,” “tainted,” “carnal,” “fleshly,” and “defiling.”
LOVE AND MARRIAGE?
A shift in perspective began to take place in the eleventh century when some
liturgical books and wedding sermons began to mention the mutual friend-
ship, affection, and love that should exist between husband and wife. In cer-
tain monastic settings the ancient Roman idea of marital affection (affectio
maritalis) was given “new emotional overtones.”28 While many authors con-
tinued to view marriage as spiritually problematic, a few began to consider
the significance “of the body in the life of the person” and to explore the
capacity of married sexuality for revealing God’s love.29 In a rare instance
of an assertion of the neglected biblical perspectives on sexuality, Aelred of
Rievauix (1110–1167) proposed that “woman was created expressly as an
incentive for happiness and friendship” and that “from the very beginning
nature impressed upon human minds the emotional desire for friendship and
affection.”30
Though churchmen did not recognize that marital intercourse could ex-
press spousal love, Aelred opined that a kiss might serve as a sign of affection
between husband and wife.31 St. Bernard of Clairveaux (1090–1153) used the
image of the kiss between spouses to express the mystery of the Incarnation
and the love that unites the three Persons of the Trinity.32 Employing the
imagery found in the Song of Songs, St. Bernard wrote about the way people
could learn to love God more deeply.33 However, the understanding of “love”
and its expression was limited to the perception of marriage as an indissoluble
union, not as a bodily act of sexual self-giving.
The disconnection between spousal love and the expression such love in
marital intercourse was especially manifest in the emerging medieval ideal
of the sexless or “spiritual marriage.” Following the Roman tradition and
58 Chapter 5
the Augustinian emphasis on the idea that consent, not intercourse, makes
the marriage, theologians began to speak of “spiritual marriage” as the ideal
form of marriage. Certain writers set out to glorify the depth of love existing
between spouses who had renounced marital intercourse. Stories about loving
spouses in sexless or spiritual marriages appeared in the pious literature of the
time. In one story the bones of a spouse who had lived in a spiritual marriage
moved over to make room for her husband’s recently deceased body and in
another story a wife’s corpse was embraced by her departed husband’s arm
when she was placed in the tomb.34 It was said that such couples perceived
their lives of sexual abstinence as an anticipation of heaven. The message
is clear: Holiness and love may be related, but sexual intimacy and holiness
were not.
Speculation concerning the nastiness of marital intercourse went hand-in-
glove with the idea that married folk who disliked sexual contact were holier
persons for doing so. Denying their “vile” bodies, they had embraced a state
of spiritual holiness. Ida of Boulogne (1040–1113) endured rather than en-
joyed marital relations.35 Another heroine of sexual disgust was Waletrude,
who “abhorred sexual relations, though she loved her husband in a spiritual
way.”36
THE LEGACY OF SIX CENTURIES OF PENITENTIAL MANUALS
Between 550 and 750 the Irish monks gave the Catholic Church their innova-
tive penitential manuals. Later handbooks derived most of their sexual con-
tent from those early handbooks. When it came to marital relations, married
couples had to take into account the reason why they were initiating sexual
intercourse, the manner in which they were performing their intercourse, and
the time when they were permitted to have intercourse. In addition to the
days of required abstinence, there were days on which sexual abstinence was
simply recommended. The married were encouraged to abstain from sexual
union on Thursdays in memory of Jesus’ arrest in Gethsemane, on Fridays in
honor of Jesus’ death on the cross, and on Saturdays in honor of Mary, Jesus’
virgin mother.37 On Sundays, the married might well forego marital union in
honor of the Resurrection and they could do the same on Mondays in memory
of those who had died. When Tuesday finally arrived, pious couples may
have well shouted, “Tonight’s the night!”
From 550 to 1150, the penitential lists of sins and their legislated sanc-
tions had the effect denying any spiritual value that might be found in marital
intercourse. The church fathers, the authors of the penitential books, bishops,
popes, and doctors of the church had ignored a key theme in the letter to the
Ephesians—namely, the theme of husband and wife becoming two in one flesh.
For more than a thousand years “not a single scholar attempted a painstaking
analysis of Ephesians 5:21–32.”38 Thus from the second century to the twelfth
no significant church leader had addressed Paul’s words about the “great mys-
tery” in which the love of husband and wife is compared with the love of Jesus
for his church. Instead, St. Clement embraced Stoicism, Augustine invented his
idea of concupiscence, and Finnian introduced sanctions against sexual inti-
macy. In the eleventh and twelfth centuries the sanctions introduced by Finnian
were beginning to be codified in the great collections of canon law.
Thanks to the efforts of monks and churchmen, the range of acceptable
marital activity was extremely narrow. Punishment was meted out to spouses
when they engaged in marital intercourse for the wrong reasons or when they
embraced each other at the wrong times or when they enjoyed each other in
the wrong manner or when they loved each other too passionately or too of-
ten. When the use of the penitential handbooks came to an end in the twelfth
century, canon law became the next vehicle for handing on the church’s
grudging acceptance of marital relations. In the meantime, ascetically minded
churchmen strove to impose celibacy on all clerics because marital inter-
course was more and more viewed as a contamination of the priestly office.
NOTES
1. Isidore, De Ecclesiasticis Officiis, cited in Theodore Mackin, S.J., The Marital

Sacrament (Mahwah, N.J.: Paulist Press, 1989), 243.
2. Isidore, De Ecclesiasticis Officiis, 243.
3. Pierre J. Payer, Sex and the Penitentials: The Development of a Sexual Code
550–1150 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1984), 62.
4. John T. Noonan, Contraception (New York: The New American Library,
1965), 204.
5. Payer, Sex and the Penitentials, 24.
6. Anthony Kosnik, ed., Human Sexuality (New York: Paulist Press, 1977), 250.
7. Kosnik, Human Sexuality, 250.
11. Pierre J. Payer, The Bridling of Desire (Toronto: University of Toronto Press,
1993), 219.
12. Noonan, Contraception, 204.
13. Glen Olsen, “Marriage in Barbarian Kingdom and Christian Court,” in Chris-
tian Marriage: A Historical Study, ed. Glen W. Olsen (New York: The Crossroad
Publishing Company, 2001),152.
60 Chapter 5
14. Pope Gregory, Pastoral Rule 3.27, PL 77:102, cited in Noonan, Contracep-
tion, 187.
15. Pope Gregory, Pastoral Rule, 187.
17. Venerable Bede, Hexaemeron, Book I, PL 91:31, cited in Joseph E. Kerns,
S.J., The Theology of Marriage (New York: Sheed & Ward, 1964), 104.
18. Venerable Bede, Super Epistolas Catholicas Exposito: In Primam Epistolam
Petri, PL 93:55, as cited in Theodore Mackin, S.J., The Marital Sacrament (Mahwah,
N.J.: Paulist Press, 1989), 242.
19. Bede, Super Epistolas Catholicas Exposito, 251.
20. Alcuin, Commentarium in Joannem, Book 1, chapter 2, verse 8, PL 100:771–
772, cited in Mackin, The Marital Sacrament, 247.
21. Uta Ranke-Heinemann, Eunuchs for the Kingdom of Heaven, trans. Peter
Heinegg (New York: Doubleday, 1990), 140.
22. Halitgar, De Vitiis et Virtutibus et de Ordine Poenitentiarum Libri Quinque,
chapter 16, PL 105:668, cited in Mackin, The Marital Sacrament, 243.
23. Halitgar, De Vitiis et Virtutibus, 243.
24. Halitgar, De Vitiis et Virtutibus, 243.
25. Jonas of Orleans, De Institutione Laicorum, Book II, chapter 11, PL 106:188,
cited in Kerns, The Theology of Marriage, 123.
26. Jonas of Orleans, De Institutione Laicorum, 123.
28. Teresa Olsen Pierre, “Marriage, Body and Sacrament in the Age of Hugh of
St. Victor,” in Christian Marriage, 256.
29. Pierre, “Marriage, Body and Sacrament in the Age of Hugh of St. Victor,”
256.
32. Jean Leclerque, Monks on Marriage: A Twelfth Century View (San Francisco:
Harper & Row, 1982), 80–82.
33. Leclerque, Monks on Marriage, 73–74.
34. Olsen, “Marriage in Barbarian Kingdom and Christian Court,” 186.
37. Derrick Sherwin Bailey, Sexual Relation in Christian Thought (New York:
Harper & Brothers Publishers, 1959), 133, note 3.
38. Mackin, The Marital Sacrament, 268.
6
The Law of Clerical Celibacy Embodies the
Bias Against Marital Intimacy
EARLY ATTEMPTS TO IMPOSE CELIBACY

ON MARRIED CLERGY
When the followers of Jesus of Nazareth began preaching the good news, most
of the apostles and missionaries were probably married. Deacons and deacon-
esses, presbyters, and bishops served the local churches, and many of them were
married.1 Marital intercourse had not yet been associated with sinful lust.
The idea that celibacy was a duty of the priestly state was gradually in-
troduced. The process of outlawing clerical marriage began in 309 and was
only completed in 1139. The arguments made against the marriage of clerics
tell much about the development of the Catholic Church’s attitude of pelvic
anxiety. The first attempt to impose a requirement of celibacy upon clerics
took place at a provincial synod meeting in Elvira, Spain, in 309. In canon 33
nineteen bishops and twenty-six presbyters declared that married priests and
bishops should permanently refrain from marital relations: “Bishops, presby-
ters, and deacons and all other clerics having a position in the ministry are
ordered to abstain completely from their wives and not to have children.”2
The crux of canon 33 was the prohibition against engaging in “the sexual
act.”3 The synod’s attempt to impose celibacy implied that marital relations
between clerics and their wives produced a ritual impurity that made clerics
unfit for presiding over the holy Eucharistic liturgy.4 At the Council of Ni-
caea in 325 Bishop Hosius of Cordoba proposed that the decrees of the local
council of Elvira become the norm for the universal church. Although this
suggestion was not then accepted, some local church councils began to ask:
Could priests and prelates sleep with their wives, or did their priestly office
oblige them to avoid the contamination of sex?5
61
62 Chapter 6
THE DEVELOPING EUCHARISTIC THEOLOGY AND

THE DEMAND FOR CLERICAL CELIBACY
By the end of the fourth century the sacrificial aspect of the Eucharistic lit-
urgy began to gain wide acceptance. This led to the application of various
Old Testament norms for ritual purity. A key biblical passage came from the
book of Leviticus: “When a man has an emission of seed, he shall bathe his
whole body in water and be unclean until evening. . . . If a man lies carnally
with a woman, they shall both bathe in water and be unclean until evening”
(Lev. 15:16–18). However, Jewish priests rarely served at the altar of sacri-
fice. But Christian priests were different. So St. Ambrose of Milan proposed
that priests “should live in a state of perpetual continence” since they served
at the altar all their lives.6 Ambrose admonished his priests to “continue in
a ministry which is unhampered and spotless, one which should not be pro-
faned by conjugal intercourse.”7
While Judaism did not regard intercourse as a sin, sexual relations did
render a man ritually unclean. That meant he could not participate in Israel’s
cultic life for a prescribed period of time, usually a day. Using such biblical
stipulations as his warrant, Pope Damasus I (366–384) declared that marital
intercourse was incompatible with presiding at the Eucharistic ritual.8 Pope
Siricius (384–399) had as his rallying cry, “Those who are in the flesh can-
not see God.”9 In 392 this pope wrote a letter to Bishop Anysius stating that
“Jesus would not have chosen birth from a virgin, had he been forced to
look upon her as so unrestrained as to let that womb . . . be stained by the
presence of male seed.”10 Siricius also declared that the only persons worthy
of serving at the altar were those who were forever free of “the stain” of
intercourse.11
Pope Leo I (440–461) also seems to have accepted a dualistic split between
bodily and spiritual existence. Thus deacons were to remain married, but
they were instructed to avoid marital intercourse in order to grow in holiness.
Referring to 1 Corinthians 7:29, Pope Leo declared: “Therefore, so that a
spiritual bond may grow from the physical marriage, [deacons] may not send
their spouses away and must live as through they had none, whereby the love
of the married couple remains intact and the conjugal acts cease.”12
EARLY PROHIBITIONS
Encouraged by the preference for virginity in the Christian scriptures, pushed

by the bias against sexual pleasure, and adopting the view that the Eucharis-
The Law of Clerical Celibacy 63
tic liturgy was a sacrifice, various local church councils began to take action
against married clergymen. These councils asserted that the priestly office
obliged prelates and priests to avoid the contamination of sex. In 541 the
Fourth Synod of Orleans ordered that “the bishop must treat his wife as his
sister.”13 The same synod held that “the people must not respect but scorn
the priest who cohabits with his wife, for in the place of being a doctor of
penitence he is a doctor of libertinage.”14 This synod also decreed that every
married priest or deacon was to have a companion cleric who would follow
him everywhere and have a bed in the same room where the married cleric
slept.15 In the course of each week seven subdeacons or lectors had to take
their nightly turns in order to maintain their anti-sexual surveillance of the
married clerics.
Meeting in 583, the Synod of Lyon’s first canon decreed that married
priests could not live together with their spouses. In 589 the Synod of Toledo
issued canon 5, another declaration that married clerics may not live with
their wives. It was difficult to enforce the prohibition against priests sleeping
with their wives. However, in the centuries to come churchmen would use
these synodal statements as proof-texts to establish clerical celibacy as the
norm in the western church.
CELIBACY FOR BISHOPS
Bishops were the first clerics required to live as celibates. Gregory of Tours
(538–594), author of the History of the Franks, described how Bishop Urbi-
cus of Clermont-Ferrand tried to observe the new rule of episcopal celibacy.
Conforming to the legislation, Urbicus placed his wife in a convent. But it
was said that one night the devil turned the bishop’s wife into a second Eve
and she found herself inflamed “with desire for her husband.”16 Pounding
on the door of her husband’s lodgings, she shouted, “Bishop! Why do you
scorn your lawful wife? Why do you shut your ears and refuse to listen to the
words of Paul, who wrote: ‘Come together again, that Satan tempt you not.’
I am here! I am returning to you, not as to a stranger but to one who belongs
to me.”17
Moved either by the urgency of her desire or by the appropriate biblical
citation, the bishop admitted her to his bedroom where they had marital rela-
tions. It turned out that their marital encounter produced a daughter. But the
bishop and his wife were never again intimate and the daughter grew up and
became a nun. Eventually, all three were laid to rest side by side,18 thereby
demonstrating that “all’s well that ends well.”
64 Chapter 6
RESISTANCE TO A MARRIED CLERGY INCREASES
In the European cities those in clerical orders were a social group distinct
from the laity by means of their clothing, education, and special duties. In
towns and villages, however, priests had little formal education and lived
lives similar to those of farmers and village craftspeople. Priestly duties were
basically liturgical, consisting of baptizing infants, presiding at funerals, and
offering the Eucharistic liturgy. Since there was little source of livelihood in
these sacramental functions, these priests cared for their families by farming
or plying a trade. Most people “were probably served by married clergy.”19
But marriage for the lower clergy had been discouraged for centuries.
During the eleventh century certain clerical leaders began to “cleanse” the
Catholic Church by conducting an all-out campaign against clerical mar-
riage. That campaign was aided by the fact that some lay lords, bishops, and
pastors “had only the faintest interest in Christian goodness, and even less in
the advance or even preservation of learning.”20 In some cases, church lands
and property had been passed on as inheritance. The leaders of the attack on
clerical marriage seem to have been motivated by both the desire to liberate
church property from the control of laypersons and by their abhorrence of
priests engaging in marital intercourse. In Milan, Italy, some promoters of
clerical celibacy began invading the houses of married priests in order to
drive away their wives.
A backlash to those harsh tactics developed. Guibert, the cardinal archdea-
con of Milan, defended the married clergy by pointing out “that sin pertains
to the individual, not to sex. For sex is holy.”21 But the opponents of clerical
marriage attacked on two fronts, one economic and the other doctrinal. The
economic argument involved such practical matters as the costs involved in
supporting a priest’s family with food, shelter, and clothing. On the doctri-
nal front, the advocates of clerical celibacy utilized teachings of the church
fathers and the statements of those bishops and popes who taught that sinful-
ness and lust corrupted marital relations. With nearly nine centuries’ worth
of negative assessments on marital intercourse to draw from, the opponents
of clerical marriage painted a dreary portrait of the ministry of the married
clerics, mired as they were in the unholy activities of the marriage bed.
Peter Damian (1007–1072), cardinal-bishop of the diocese of Ostia, Italy,
proposed that, since the Virgin Mary delivered the infant Jesus, only virgin
priests ought to bring him forth on the Eucharistic altar.22 Damian thought
that any married priest who had marital intercourse with his wife “became
impure and his impurity contaminated every liturgical action he performed,
sullied the sacred vessels that he touched, and defiled the sacred words that he
spoke.”23 While one might object that St. Peter himself was married, Damian
echoed St. Jerome’s condemnation of sexuality by declaring, “Peter washed

away the filth of marriage with the blood of his martyrdom.”24
The argument against a married priesthood was simple: Marriage entailed
sex and sex was inseparable from lust. So Peter Damian could easily depict
married priests as persons betraying their high calling because “they lived
as married men, amid the reek and screams of sniveling brats, side by side
with a smirking, randy wife, [and] bedeviled by daily temptations to unclean
thoughts, words, and deeds.”25 Later on the leadership of the Catholic Church
declared Peter Damian a saint and a doctor of the church.
Humbert, one of Peter Damian’s contemporaries, was Pope Leo IX’s ap-
ostolic delegate to the eastern church in Byzantium (present-day Istanbul).
Condemning the eastern church for allowing the tradition of a married priest-
hood to continue, Humbert depicted the eastern rite priests in these words:
“Young husbands, just now exhausted from carnal lust, serve the altar. And
immediately afterward they again embrace their wives with hands that have
been hallowed by the immaculate Body of Christ. That is . . . an invention of
Satan.”26 It is not surprising that Cardinal Humbert played a key role in the
schism of the Eastern Orthodox Church from the Roman Catholic Church.
CANON LAW PROHIBITS CLERICAL MARRIAGE
Although the tradition of clerical marriage had existed in both the eastern and
western branches of the Christian church from the time of the apostles, much
of church law was inconsistent. Then, in the eleventh and twelfth centuries,
the advocates of priestly celibacy began to make their case by selecting
only those laws that favored clerical celibacy. The resulting collections of
authoritative statements favoring clerical celibacy were then offered as proof
that, if married men were ordained, they must thereafter cease to have carnal
intercourse with their wives.
In 1022 the Synod of Pavia passed a law prohibiting clerics from cohabiting
with their wives or concubines under pain of deposition. In 1031 the Synod
of Bourges ordered the wives of clerics to leave the towns where their cleric-
husbands lived.27 Pope Leo IX (1048–1054) outlawed clerical marriage in
1049. In 1059 Pope Nicholas II decreed that the laity were not to participate
in any liturgy that was presided over by a priest who lived with his wife.
Pope Gregory VII (1073–1085) gave his ultimatum in 1074. If a married
clergyman did not separate from his wife, he was to be deposed. After this
ultimatum other synods and local councils passed similar legislation. In 1089
Pope Urban II decreed that all clerics who continued to live with their wives
were to be removed from office. If, after being warned by a bishop, clerics
66 Chapter 6
did not comply, the pope gave secular rulers permission to make slaves of
clerical wives.28
In 1123 the bishops at the First Lateran Council decreed that after a cleric
was ordained a subdeacon, deacon, or priest, he could not validly marry. At
the Synod of Clermont in 1130 Pope Innocent II decreed that marital inter-
course was incompatible with holy men and their holy actions. The pope’s
argument was: “[S]ince priests are supposed to be God’s temples, vessels of
the Lord and sanctuaries of the Holy Spirit . . . it offends their dignity to lie
in the conjugal bed and live in impurity.”29
Repeating the decrees of the First Lateran Council, the Second Lateran
Council (1139) decreed “that those in the orders of subdeacon and above who
have taken wives” were to be removed from their positions because “it is un-
becoming that they give themselves up to marriage and impurity.”30 Thus the
decrees of the First and Second Lateran Councils changed clerical marriage
into a crime against canon law.
SUMMARY
Ever since a faction of Corinthian ascetics proposed the idea that “[i]t is a
good thing for a man not to touch a woman” (1 Cor. 7:1) the goodness of mar-
ital intercourse had been questioned. From the second century onward, cer-
tain churchmen began to link marital relations with lust. Then St. Augustine
provided a new basis for the disapproval of marital intercourse by teaching
that sexual desire was nothing more than lustful concupiscence that was the
result of Adam and Eve’s sin. As succeeding generations of churchmen ac-
cepted Augustine’s conclusions, it was inevitable that a priest who lived with
his wife would be regarded as a man polluted by lust. The canon lawyers and
the advocates of clerical celibacy living in the eleventh and twelfth centuries
firmly established the institution of clerical celibacy in the Catholic Church.
The opponents of clerical marriage taught that a priest had to be a man set
apart by his holiness. One aspect of that holiness was the renunciation of the
unholy and carnal activities of marriage. Thus the law of priestly celibacy be-
came another contributing factor to the Catholic Church’s failure to perceive
that marital sexuality is good and holy for God created it so.
NOTES
1. Note the advice given to Timothy and Titus in the pastoral letters, especially 1
Tim. 3:2, 12; Titus 1:6ff.
2. Samuel Laeuchli, Power and Sexuality: The Emergence of Canon Law at the
Synod of Elvira (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1972), 130.
3. Laeuchli, Power and Sexuality, 100.
4. Laeuchli, Power and Sexuality, 108.
5. Frances Gies and Joseph Gies, Marriage and the Family in the Middle Ages
(New York: Harper & Row Publishers, 1987), 58.
6. Joseph Martos, Doors to the Sacred (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday & Com-
pany, Inc., 1982), 483.
7. Ambrose, On the Duties of Ministers, I, 50, cited in Martos, Doors to the
Sacred, 483.
8. P. Delhaye, “History of Celibacy,” The New Catholic Encyclopedia, Vol. 3
(Washington, D.C.: Catholic University Press, 1967), 372.
1988), 358.
12. Pope Leo I, Epistles, cited in Maureen Fiedler and Linda Rabben, ed., Rome
Has Spoken (New York: The Crossroad Publishing Company, 1998), 128.
13. Synod of Orleans (541), Gies, Marriage and the Family in the Middle Ages,
58.
58.
58.
16. Gregory of Tours, History of the Franks, Gies, Marriage and the Family in
the Middle Ages, 59.
19. Martos, Doors to the Sacred, 488.
20. Theodore Mackin, The Marital Sacrament (Mahwah, N.J.: Paulist Press,
1989), 264.
21. Glen Olsen, “Marriage in Barbarian Kingdom and Christian Court,” in Glen
W. Olsen, ed., Christian Marriage: A Historical Study (New York: The Crossroad
Publishing Company, 2001), 157.
22. Peter Damian, On the Dignity of the Priest, in Ranke-Heinemann, Eunuchs for
the Kingdom of Heaven, 108.
23. Peter Damian, Against the Intemperate Clerics, in James A. Brundage, Law,
Sex, and Christian Society (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1987), 214.
24. Peter Damian, On the Perfection of Bishops, in Ranke-Heinemann, Eunuchs
for the Kingdom of Heaven, 108.
25. Peter Damian, Against the Intemperate Clerics, c. 7, in Brundage, Law, Sex,
and Christian Society, 215.
68 Chapter 6
26. Ranke-Heinemann, Eunuchs for the Kingdom of Heaven, 107.

27. Brundage, Law, Sex, and Christian Society, 218.
28. Fiedler and Rabben, Rome Has Spoken, 129.
7
Canon Law Sees Nothing Spiritual
in Marital Intimacy
FROM PENITENTIAL MANUALS TO CHURCH LAW
The new academic discipline of canon or church law developed in the new
centers of learning that arose during the Renaissance. Those portions of canon
law that dealt with marriage had their origins in the penitential handbooks
first developed by the Irish monks. Those handbooks manifested the low es-
teem for marital intimacy that was found in the writings of the church fathers,
particularly those of St. Augustine. However, the monastic code that replaced
Augustine’s theological synthesis was far more severe.
In the eleventh century the gloomy teachings of the Stoics, the church
fathers, and the monks began to be incorporated into the new collections of
church law. In the year 1010 Bishop Burchard of Worms (d. 1025) produced
his law code, the Decretum, which can be traced back to the eighth-century
penitential manuals attributed to Bede and Egbert. But Bishop Burchard’s ec-
clesiastical legislation imposed severe penances on spouses who had relations
during the times when sexual intimacy was forbidden. To have intercourse
with one’s wife after it was clear that she had conceived was deemed a sin. The
penance was ten days of fasting. However, if a husband had relations with his
wife after the child stirred in her womb, the penance was extended to twenty
days of fasting on bread and water. If the husband had relations with his wife
after she had delivered her child but before she was purified (thirty-three days
for a boy, sixty-six for a girl), he had to atone with twenty days of fasting on
bread and water.1
Burchard’s Decretum prohibited sex on Sundays. If the husband “stained”
himself by lying with his wife during the forty days of Lenten fasting, an ad-
ditional forty days of fasting were imposed.2 Marital intercourse was forbidden
69
70 Chapter 7
during the twenty days leading up to Christmas, on the twenty days before
Pentecost, on fast days, on the feast days of the Apostles, and on any other
major feast day.3 By means of such penances the Decretum declared that the
spiritual life was the antithesis of marital sexuality.
GRATIAN: THE “FATHER OF CANON LAW”
In 1140 Gratian (d. 1160), a scholar of canon law at the University of Bolo-
gna, gave the Catholic Church his textbook, A Concordance of Discordant
Canons. Among the four thousand church laws that he codified were numer-
ous canons that incorporated the anti-sexual attitudes of church fathers, the
penitential handbooks, theologians, and other churchmen. Thus, Gratian’s
collection forbade husband and wife to have marital intercourse on those days
that were designated as times of prayer. In the course of eleven centuries St.
Paul’s concession to the Corinthian ascetics (1 Cor. 7:5) had evolved into
legislation obligating married couples to abstain from marital relations on
days designated as days of prayer. Those days included the day of the birth of
Jesus and any other feast days, fast days, processional days, and days on which
a person was performing penance.4 If one or both partners were planning to
receive the Eucharist, they had to abstain from marital relations between three
to seven days prior to taking this sacrament.5 Adding up the days on which
couples committed sin by engaging in marital intercourse, one finds a total
of nearly one hundred fifty days (and nights) of the year. Indeed, the Catholic
Church had wandered far from its Jewish heritage that proclaimed that it was a
special blessing to join “the holiness of the Sabbath with the holiness of marital
sex.”6
Gratian’s Decretum became the standard textbook for canon law in univer-
sities throughout Europe. From the twelfth century to the publication of the
1917 Code of Canon Law, Gratian’s codification was the standard text wher-
ever canon law was taught. Since Gratian basically followed Augustine’s
marital doctrine, Gratian’s code became a major vehicle for the continuous
transmission of Augustine’s attitude of pelvic anxiety as well as his promo-
tion of the Stoic rule that the intention to conceive a child was the only non-
sinful purpose for engaging in marital intercourse.
THE CODE OF CANON LAW AND MARITAL INTIMACY
The late medieval reformers, “even more than the penitential authors and
earlier patristic authorities, were intent on limiting marital sex . . . as severely
Canon Law Sees Nothing Spiritual in Marital Intimacy 71
as they could.”7 Since Gratian regarded Augustine as the great authority on

marriage and marital intercourse, Gratian did much to perpetuate the idea
that marital intercourse was both a result and a source of sin. His Decretum
repeated Augustine’s rule: Engaging in marital intercourse “beyond the in-
tention of generating” is a venial sin.8 But Gratian went beyond Augustine’s
severity by declaring: “Those who copulate not to procreate offspring but
to satisfy lust seem to be not so much spouses as fornicators.”9 In this am-
biguous statement Gratian gave the impression that, lacking the procreative
purpose, couples engaging in the marital act might well be committing a
grievous sin.
There were other ambiguities. Gratian cited St. Jerome’s denunciation of
spouses who engaged in marital relations during pregnancy. In his denuncia-
tion of lustful spouses, Jerome quoted with approval the remark of the Stoic
philosopher, Sextus: “He who is too ardent a lover of his wife is an adulterer.”10
Such a conclusion was based on the Stoic view of what was reasonable or
“natural.” After a farmer sowed his field with seed, it would be unreasonable,
that is, “unnatural,” to sow new seed in that same field. Gratian’s reference to
a husband’s being “too ardent a lover” suggested that whenever he had marital
relations at a time when conception was unable to take place, such as it is dur-
ing a woman’s pregnancy, he was committing mortal sin. Thus the Stoic rule
became imbedded in church law.
HUGUCCIO THE COMMENTATOR
The canon lawyers who came after Gratian took upon themselves the task of
interpreting and explaining the Decretum in their commentaries. Huguccio,
“the chief of Gratian’s commentators,” drew inspiration for his commentary
from the teachings of both St. Jerome and St. Augustine. Although Gratian
only implied that seeking pleasure in marital relations was seriously sinful,
Huguccio turned those implications into explicit assertions. He taught that it
“is mortal sin” for spouses to seek sexual relations “in order to sate one’s lust
or satisfy one’s pleasure.”11
Huguccio listed four reasons why a married couple would want to have
sexual relations. First, the husband and wife might want to procreate a child.
Second, the couple might have relations to pay the marital debt as outlined by
Paul in First Corinthians. Third, married folk might have intercourse in order
to avoid the temptation to commit adultery. Fourth, the couple might seek
marital relations for the sake of sexual pleasure.12 The fourth case constituted
a mortal sin. Since Huguccio thought that every act of marital intimacy was
sinful, married persons committed a venial sin even when engaging in marital
72 Chapter 7
intercourse for any of the first three reasons! His rationale was simple: Since
marital relations always had some degree of pleasure, every marital act had
some degree of sinfulness.
Six centuries earlier, Pope Gregory I (540–604) had stated that sexual
pleasure was sinful. Repeating Pope Gregory’s analysis, Huguccio contended
that marital intercourse “can never be without sin, for it always occurs and
is exercised with a certain itching and a certain pleasure; for in the emission
of the seed, there is always a certain excitement, a certain itching, a certain
pleasure.”13 Accordingly, whenever a spouse experienced sexual pleasure,
that spouse committed a light or venial sin. Whenever a spouse engaged in
intercourse for the sake of experiencing sexual pleasure, he or she committed
a mortal sin. That meant that if a spouse died before confessing the sin of
seeking sexual pleasure in the marriage act, he or she would be condemned
to hell.
There was only one way in which a husband could avoid sin while engag-
ing in marital intercourse. If he refrained from orgasm while engaging in sex-
ual intercourse only to satisfy his wife, he did not sin. However, even if the
husband managed to refrain from ejaculating, he would still be guilty of sin if
he had felt any kind of pleasure during this restricted marital activity.14
Following Huguccio
While pleasure might be “tolerated” in marital acts undertaken to conceive a
child, sexual pleasure in non-reproductive sex was deemed to have no place
in the “natural order.” Thus “the twelfth-century commentators on Gratian’s
Decretum elaborated for the first time in great detail this Stoic model of mari-
tal sex, still very much alive in Roman Catholic thought.”15
Pope Innocent III (1198–1216), described as “one of the most important
and powerful popes in the entire history of the Church,”16 might well have
been Huguccio’s best student. Pope Innocent repeated Pope Gregory’s old
opinion that branded marital intercourse as sinful, shameful, and defiling:
“Who does not know that conjugal intercourse is never committed without
itching of the flesh, and heat and foul concupiscence, whence the conceived
seeds are befouled and corrupted?”17 Since the pope’s opinion matched
those of such heretics as right-wing Gnostics, Manichees, and Cathars, John
Noonan noted that Innocent III had to be writing as “a private theologian”
when he expressed his opinion on the foul and corrupting aspects of marital
intercourse.18 Private opinion or not, such comments manifest a widespread
ecclesiastical perspective that sees nothing spiritual, holy, or noble in the acts
of sexual union between spouses.
DOES CONSENT OR INTERCOURSE MAKE A MARRIAGE?
As the Roman Empire crumbled, the role of deciding on questions of the va-
lidity of contested marriages was passed on to leaders in the western church.
The key question became: If marriage was a sacrament, then what or who
made marriage a sacrament? Two traditions had developed. The Roman tra-
dition held that the consent constituted the marriage. The Germanic tradition
held that sexual intercourse constituted the marriage.
In the ninth century Hincmar of Reims (ca. 806–882) wanted to “Christian-
ize” sexual consummation. To that end he suggested that carnal intercourse
constituted the sacrament of marriage. But the reform-minded theologians of
the eleventh and twelfth centuries opposed Hincmar’s theory. St. Peter Da-
mian (1007–1072) vehemently objected to the idea that a marriage depended
on sexual intercourse for its validity: “If indeed marriage is made by coitus,
then every time a man makes love to his wife no doubt they get married all
over again.”19 Thus did Peter Damian overlook the sacramental nature of the
marital act. Each act of sexual union is in truth a sign of the permanent union
that husband and wife entered into when they exchanged their wedding vows.
Contemporary theologians see a significant relationship between the marriage
act and, in the words of Peter Damian, “being married all over again.” It can be
said that every marital act expresses in deed the initial commitment that bride
and groom made to each other on their wedding day. On that day the groom
took the bride for his wife and the bride chose the groom to be her husband.
Every time husband and wife engage in the unitive act by which they become
“two in one flesh,” they can be said to be renewing their marriage vows.
Gratian viewed the consent exchanged by bride and groom as obligating
the two persons to marital intercourse. Theologian Peter Lombard disagreed
with Gratian. Lombard saw the couple’s consent as obligating both parties “to
a life in marital union with its rights and duties yet to be itemized.”20 Thus,
if the parties wanted, they could agree to exclude sexual relations from their
marriage! Lombard wanted to protect the “validity” of the virginal marriage
of Mary and Joseph as well as the validity of those “spiritual marriages” in
which the two parties agreed to forsake marital intercourse in order to live a
more holy (i.e., sexless) married life. Lombard’s distinction led to the Catho-
lic Church’s accepting the concept of the “virginal marriage,” a paradoxical
situation brought about by a couple’s decision to marry each other while also
deciding to forego their mutual claims to the exercise of the “marriage debt”
(see 1 Cor. 7:3).
Pope Alexander III (1159–1181) worked out a compromise between the
two theories. He decreed that a marriage takes place by consent, but he also
74 Chapter 7
held that until a marriage was consummated by marital intercourse, the mar-
riage was incomplete and could still be dissolved by the authority vested in
the papacy.
THE “MARRIAGE DEBT”
A “debt” is a legal term meaning that something is “owed” to another. Once

again the seventh chapter of Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians is the source
of another key concept in the Catholic Church’s ever-developing theology
of marriage. When the Corinthian ascetics were trying to obtain approval
for abstaining from all sexual relations in marriage, Paul spoke of the sexual
obligations spouses owed to each other (1 Cor. 7:1–7). In the twelfth century
marriage came to be viewed as a contract. Taking the Pauline text literally,
canon lawyers “put the notion of debt in the center of the sex life of married
couples.”21 For the next eight centuries the priests who heard the confessions
of the faithful often asked which party requested payment of the marital debt
and which partner owed the marriage debt. Churchmen would also debate the
gravity of the sin of “refusing” to pay the marital debt.
Rolandus, seemingly a more perceptive canon lawyer, held the unusual
view that the spouse who paid the marital debt at his or her partner’s request
was performing a virtuous action.22 His fellow canon lawyers rejected his
view, holding that paying the debt merely avoided the mortal sin of refusing
the debt. Huguccio held that both partners always sinned no matter what.
The reason Huguccio gave was this: The spouse that requested intercourse
sinned by asking for something that was at least venially sinful. The spouse
who complied with the request to render the marital debt would sin because
pleasure in the marital act was inevitable.
NEW DEFINITION OF MARRIAGE
Duns Scotus (1266–1308), a member of the Franciscan order, took the

ideas of Hugh of St. Victor (1090–1141) and then incorporated some of the
thinking of Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274). He thus provided a definition of
marriage that would stand from the thirteenth century to the twentieth: “Mar-
riage is an indissoluble bond between a man and a woman arising from the
reciprocal exchange of authority over the other’s bodies for the procreation
and proper nurture of children.”23 In essence this made the wedding ceremony
a public contract in which bride and groom agreed to give each other the
right to use his or her partner’s genital organs for the purpose of procreating
children. Scotus’ definition of marriage guided the Catholic Church until the
latest revision of the Code of Canon Law in 1983.
SUMMARY
Medieval churchmen possessed a dualistic mentality that perceived human

beings as having a “lower” or animal nature and a “higher” or spiritual na-
ture. Churchmen often demeaned marital intercourse by associating marital
intercourse with the “lower” aspect of human nature. By stressing the opposi-
tion between the lower nature and the higher nature, churchmen asserted that
holiness was related to an absence of sexual experience. If there was such a
thing as “the joy of sex,” the church’s lawmakers said that such joy should be
avoided because it was sinful.
Such was the process through which many Christians came to see their
bodies as a hindrance to living their “spiritual” lives. This dichotomy led
some medieval theologians to ask whether the Holy Spirit could be present
to husband and wife during marital intercourse. St. Augustine’s idea that in
intercourse the man becomes “all flesh” found its medieval counterpart in
Gratian’s statement, “the presence of the Holy Spirit is not given at the time
when conjugal acts are undertaken.”24
NOTES

2. Ranke-Heinemann, Eunuchs for the Kingdom of Heaven, 138, 150.
3. Ranke-Heinemann, Eunuchs for the Kingdom of Heaven, 138, 150.
4. Pierre J. Payer, The Bridling of Desire (Toronto: University of Toronto Press,
1993), 98.
5. Payer, The Bridling of Desire, 98.
6. Rabbi Michael Gold, Does God Belong in the Bedroom? (Philadelphia, Jeru-
salem: The Jewish Publication Society, 1992), 75.
cago: The University of Chicago Press, 1987), 182–83.
8. Gratian, Decretum (2.32 ante 3), cited in John Noonan, Contraception (New
York: The New American Library, 1965), 241.
9. Gratian, Decretum (2.32.2.1), 241.
10. Gratian, Decretum (2.32.4.5), 241.
11. Huguccio, Summa (2.32.2.2), cited in Noonan’s Contraception, 241.
13. Huguccio, Summa (2.32.2.1), as cited in Noonan’s Contraception, 241–42.
76 Chapter 7
14. Brundage, Law, Sex and Christian Society, 281–82.

16. Richard P. McBrien, Lives of the Popes (New York: HarperCollins Publishers,
Inc., 1997), 209.
17. Innocent III, On the Seven Penitential Psalms, 4, cited in Noonan’s Contracep-
tion, 242.
18. Noonan, Contraception, 242. Speaking or writing as “a private theologian”
means that the pope did not intend to include this idea as part of the “magisterium,”
that is, as an aspect of official church teaching.
19. Peter Damian, De tempore celebrandi nuptias 1, cited by Brundage in Law,
Sex and Christian Society, 189.
21. Phillippe Ari’es and Andre’ Be’jin, Western Sexuality: Practice and Precept
in Past and Present Times, trans. Anthony Forster (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, Inc.,
1985), 117.
22. Brundage, Law, Sex and Christian Society, 282–83.
23. Theodore Mackin, The Marital Sacrament (Mahwah, N.J.: Paulist Press,
1989), 326.
24. Gratian, Harmony of Discordant Canons (2.32.2.4), cited in Payer, The Bri-
dling of Desire, 101.
8
Marriage Recognized as a Sacrament
THE CATHARS ATTACK MARRIAGE
The Manichaean heresy, dormant for some six hundred years, rose again to
challenge the Catholic Church in the eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth centu-
ries. Calling themselves “the pure ones,” the Cathars, also known as Albigen-
sians, believed that “every pleasure of the flesh was sinful,” and so they “saw
marriage as a kind of systematic debauchery.”1 The Cathars’ rallying cry was
that familiar citation mistakenly attributed to Paul: “It is a good thing for a man
not to touch a woman” (1 Cor. 7:1). Adopting Jesus’ statement that in the age
to come there will be neither marrying nor giving in marriage (Luke 20:34),
“the pure ones” declared that they were already living in that new age.
Also adopting other Manichaean beliefs, the Cathars perceived sexual in-
tercourse as the act that led to the ultimate evil, the conception and imprison-
ment of a soul in corrupt human flesh. Like the Manichees, Cathars believed
that the non-use of sex was useful because non-use prevented procreation.
Thus the Cathars challenged the Catholic Church’s long-established position
that marital intercourse was justified because it brought children into the
world.
Catholic leaders opposed the Cathars by resorting to the usual heresy-
fighting weapons: citing the Old Testament, appealing to Christ’s words on
divorce and adultery, and ceaselessly repeating the anti-Gnostic text that
“everything God created is good” (1 Tim. 4:1–5). Church leaders echoed
the Stoic rule promoted by Clement of Alexandria that marital intercourse is
acceptable when undertaken for procreation.2 Augustine’s arguments were
again rolled out since his book The Good of Marriage had earlier “saved
marriage” from Manichaean attack.
77
78 Chapter 8
MARRIAGE: COULD IT BE A SACRAMENT?
St. Paul, writing that widows were free to marry provided they did so “in the
Lord” (1 Cor. 7:39), had contributed the earliest Christian principle on mar-
rying. About the year 110, Bishop Ignatius of Antioch stated that “those who
are married should be united with the consent of their bishop, to be sure that
they are marrying according to the Lord and not to satisfy their lust.”3
During the early centuries of the Christian era, believers had married
civilly according to the laws of the Roman Empire. By the fifth century the
clergy began to participate in the marriage ceremony. By the eighth century
weddings held in churches were becoming more numerous.4 However, such
a negative bias against marital intimacy had been in development since the
early centuries of the church’s existence that only in the twelfth century did
theologians begin to think about marriage as a sacrament in the same sense
that baptism and the Eucharist are sacraments.
Peter Abelard
Peter Abelard (1079–1142) thought of marriage as “merely remedy,” that is,
as a bulwark against being controlled by sexual desire. Like Peter Lombard,
Abelard held the view that marriage was a sacrament different from every
other sacrament because marriage did not confer the gift of sanctifying grace
that makes a person holy through union with God.5 Thus Abelard’s opinion
followed the Augustinian tradition. Marriage was not “a means of Grace,” but
a “remedy for concupiscence for those unable to remain celibate.”6 Separat-
ing marriage from the other sacraments, Abelard perceived sacramental mar-
riage as an institution yielding a very low-grade giftedness that might keep
marital intercourse from being sinful.
When Abelard fell in love with his student, Heloise, he married her. Per-
haps that led him to realize that marital intercourse was both beneficial and
natural.7 But Abelard met hostility when he offered a liberal interpretation of
Augustine’s ideas concerning original sin, concupiscence, and marital inter-
course. Abelard had argued that if Christians married for the general purpose
of procreating children, then marriage excused “those acts of intercourse
which occur without this intention.”8
St. Bernard of Clairveaux (1090–1153) bitterly opposed Abelard’s inter-
pretations. Bernard was a Cistercian abbot, a preacher of the Second Crusade,
a confidante of popes, and a spiritual writer of great merit. Concluding that
Abelard’s ideas were too dangerous to let stand, Bernard had Abelard’s lib-
eral interpretation of Augustine’s theology condemned at the Council of Sens
in 1140.9
Marriage Recognized as a Sacrament 79
Hugh of St. Victor’s Theory of Marriage

Hugh of St. Victor (ca. 1090–1141) provided a systematic analysis of mar-
riage that influenced such great scholastic thinkers as Peter Lombard and St.
Bonaventure. Hugh, like other medieval theologians, possessed a religious
sentiment that “shrank from the thought that the mother of Jesus, after his
birth, had endured the contamination of carnal intercourse or the degrading
pleasures of the conjugal bed.”10 In order to protect Mary’s dignity while still
maintaining that she was married to Joseph, Hugh of St. Victor wrote his
treatise, On the Virginity of Mary. Hugh wanted to justify two points of belief.
First, Mary deliberately chose to remain a virgin for the whole of her life.
Second, she was truly married to Joseph. Hugh demonstrated the reasonable-
ness of these two assertions by making some clever distinctions.
Hugh distinguished two consents in marriage—the consent to marry and
the consent to grant sexual intercourse to the spouse who asks for it. The
first consent, the consent to marry, constituted the marriage. But the second
consent, the granting of the marriage debt, was not necessary. The man and
woman consenting to marry could choose to forego making the second con-
sent. Thus the “obligation to have intercourse does not bind spouses who have
not made the second kind of consent explained above, even though they are
married for having made the first consent.”11 Thus Hugh argued that Mary
and Joseph were truly married even though they never participated in marital
intercourse.
Hugh’s argument for the validity of the marriage of Mary and Joseph
ended up supplying the Catholic Church with two forms of marriage. In one
form the couple first consented to marry and then selfishly consented to have
marital relations. In the other form the couple exchanged consent but then
agreed to forego all marital intercourse in order to love each other selflessly.
Having idealized the virginal marriage of Mary and Joseph, Hugh of St. Vic-
tor concluded that holiness in a marriage was proportional to the degree that
marital intercourse was absent. Thus those who married without agreeing to
forego marital intercourse were choosing the unholy and unspiritual form of
marriage.
The marriage of Mary and Joseph also represented the ideal, for in this
marriage the holy couple combined the excellence of virginity with Augus-
tine’s three goods of marriage: offspring (Jesus), fidelity (no adultery), and
stability (no divorce). To a great extent the marriage of Mary and Joseph
“became the pattern to which all Christian marriage must conform; conse-
quently it was inevitable that consent should be regarded as the essential,
and [sexual] consummation an incidental, element in the formation of mat-
rimony.”12
80 Chapter 8
Peter Lombard: Author of Sentences

Throughout the twelfth century sacramental theology continued to develop
through the process of analysis and debate. While teaching in Paris, Peter
Lombard (ca. 1095–1160), bishop and doctor of theology, produced his
Sentences. While recognizing the sacramental status of matrimony, Lombard
downgraded its status by teaching that sacramental marriage was a mere rem-
edy for sin, not a cause of grace.13
Here is how Lombard reached his conclusion about the lack of grace in
marriage. To begin with, St. Paul had stated that those who married served
God with a divided heart (1 Cor. 7:32–35). Thus it was difficult for medieval
theologians to see marriage in terms of any grace-giving goodness. Then,
following in the footsteps of the fathers of the church, those same medieval
theologians interpreted Paul as teaching that people should marry only if
they could not quash the fires of sexual desire (1 Cor. 7:8–9). Furthermore,
the “common wisdom” of the fathers and medieval theologians held that the
desire for sexual pleasure was basically uncontrollable. It followed, therefore,
that marriage was seen as serving as the God-given remedy for avoiding sins
of masturbation, fornication, and adultery.
In addition, there were three other reasons why marriage was “merely rem-
edy” for sin. First, marriage arrangements involved financial exchanges; sec-
ond, marriage existed before the coming of Jesus; and third, marriage almost
always included sexual intercourse. The presence of sexual intercourse was
the chief reason for holding that marriage could not be a cause of grace.14
Connections: Augustine and Bonaventure

When medieval theologians and canonists speculated on the sacramental sta-
tus of marriage, they first looked at God’s institution of “natural marriage.”
Then they speculated on why and when Jesus elevated marriage to sacramen-
tal status. All the while they strove to conform their thinking to the traditional
views expressed by the fathers of the church, particularly St. Augustine. All
this was a difficult balancing act and most of the time it was the goodness in
marital intimacy that was dropped.
St. Bonaventure (1217–1274) provided another example of the way scho-
lastic theologians expanded the domain of theological understanding while
staying within the perimeters set up by the fathers of the church. As medi-
eval theologians were wont to do, Bonaventure used ingenious distinctions
thought up by earlier theologians. He distinguished between “two institutions
of marriage”—namely, marriage as a vocation and marriage as a remedy for
concupiscence. Next, he distinguished between the two moments of institu-
Marriage Recognized as a Sacrament 81
tion, the first institution of marriage taking place before Adam and Eve’s sin
and the second taking place after they had sinned. God’s institution of mar-
riage as a “dutiful vocation” came before the first sin. Augustine had focused
on the biblical statement that God had given Eve to Adam as a helpmate
(Gen. 2:18) and concluded that the only way Eve could be a helpmate was by
bearing children. Bonaventure agreed and declared that the moment in which
God gave Eve to Adam was the moment in which God created marriage as a
“dutiful vocation.”
Next Bonaventure speculated on Augustine’s notion of concupiscence.
Both men thought that prior to the first sin there was no sexual arousal and
no pleasure-filled climax in the process of conceiving a child. But after
Adam and Eve had sinned, sexual intercourse became infected with lustful
concupiscence. So Bonaventure proposed a second moment of the institution
of marriage—namely, marriage as a remedy for concupiscence. Thus God
had instituted marriage in a two-step process, one step taken before the sin of
Adam and Eve and the other step taken after their sin.
Bonaventure’s theory left no legitimate theological rationale for sexual
enjoyment. So he concluded that “the generative act is a sin unless it is ex-
cused.”15 But there was only one way marital intercourse could be “excused”:
The two spouses were obliged to think of nothing but the goal of their marital
act—namely, the conception of a child. The partners would avoid sin “only if
this motive lasts from beginning to end, so that the mind is not turned aside
to anything else.”16 Such control, Bonaventure speculated, was “very diffi-
cult.”17 Even if husband and wife began their sexual activity for the purpose
of conceiving a child, they could still find themselves offending God by sin-
fully taking delight in their act of sexual union.
Bonaventure and other churchmen agreed that there had to be some real
“usefulness” in each and every act of marital intercourse. The only accept-
able (non-sinful) usefulness was procreation. While it is true that fidelity,
Augustine’s second good of marriage, was also useful, initiating intercourse
for the purpose of preserving fidelity was not judged to be “excusable.” So
the partner seeking sexual relief committed a venial sin in requesting in-
tercourse with his or her spouse. The “good news” was that the requesting
spouse might be avoiding a mortal sin of adultery by committing only a light
sin to preserve fidelity.
Augustine’s third good of marriage was “the good of sacrament.” Marriage
signified the indissoluble union of Jesus and his church. But Jesus had been
sinless. Marital intercourse and its fleshly pleasures were associated with
sin. Operating within such established biases, it was all but impossible for a
canonist or theologian to propose the idea that sexual intercourse between a
husband and wife might be a sign of Jesus’ love for his body, the church.
82 Chapter 8
SUMMARY
In the twelfth and thirteenth centuries marriage came to be viewed as a sacra-

ment, but the Catholic Church had not yet determined that there were seven
sacraments. Most theologians regarded marital intercourse as a venially sinful
endeavor when not undertaken for the purpose of conceiving offspring. The
reasoning behind this view was grounded in the tradition that marriage’s most
characteristic behavior, sexual intercourse, seldom escaped being sinful and
that such sexual behavior was, according to Augustine’s theory of original
sin, “the conveyor of inherited sinfulness.”18
St. Augustine’s thinking about marriage had dominated the theology of
marriage during the eight centuries following his death. The thought of St.
Thomas Aquinas, to whom we turn next, would dominate Roman Catholic
thinking from the thirteenth century to the twentieth.
NOTES
1. Theodore Mackin, What Is Marriage? (New York: Paulist Press, 1982), 177.
1965), 234.
3. Ignatius of Antioch, Letter to Polycarp 5, cited in Joseph Martos, Doors to the
Sacred (Garden City, N.Y.: Image Books, 1982), 407.
4. Martos, Doors to the Sacred, 413–14.
5. Theodore Mackin, S.J., The Marital Sacrament (Mahwah, N.J.: Paulist Press,
1989), 303.
6. Peter J. Elliott, What God Has Joined. . . . The Sacramentality of Marriage
(New York: Alba House, 1990), 88.
cago: The University of Chicago Press, 1987), 187.
8. Peter Abelard, Problems of Heloise, 42, cited in Noonan, Contraception, 238.
9. Noonan, Contraception, 238–39.
10. Derrick S. Bailey, Sexual Relation in Christian Thought (New York: Harper
& Brothers, 1959), 138.
12. Bailey, Sexual Relation in Christian Thought, 139.
13. Peter Lombard, The Sentences, cited in James F. White, Introduction to Chris-
tian Worship, revised edition (Nashville: Abington Press, 1990), 175–76.
14. Martos, Doors to the Sacred, 428.
15. Bonaventure, Commentary on the Four Books of Sentences, d. 31, a. 2, q. 1, cited
in Joseph Kerns, The Theology of Marriage (New York: Sheed & Ward, 1964), 58.
16. Kerns, The Theology of Marriage, d. 31, a. 2, q. 1, 63.
17. Kerns, The Theology of Marriage, d. 31, a. 2, q. 1, 63.
9
St. Thomas Aquinas:
Modifications and Qualifications
MARRIAGE: BOTH GRACE AND SEXUAL PLEASURE?
Using Aristotelian philosophy as theology’s “handmaid,” Thomas Aquinas

(1225–1274) wrote his long introduction to theology, the Summa Theologica.
Working with an analytical format, Aquinas would choose a topic, present
a question related to that topic, list objections, give his own opinion on the
question, and then reply to the objections. In this manner Aquinas approached
the topic of marriage.1
St. Thomas Aquinas’ mentor, St. Albert the Great (1200–1280), thought
that it was “highly probable”2 that marriage conveyed sanctifying grace.
Thomas agreed, proposing that the natural state of marriage was capable of
being elevated to sacramental status in Christ. That grace came in the form
of divine help that enabled married couples to use their generative organs to
achieve the primary end of marriage, which was the begetting of children:
“Since in matrimony man receives by Divine institution the faculty to use his
wife for the begetting of children, he also receives the grace without which
he cannot becomingly do so.”3
Some theologians maintained that sacraments could “effect” or “bring
about” what they signified only through Jesus’ redemptive sufferings. Those
theologians argued that marriage “is not a sacrament” because, having plea-
sure annexed to it, marriage “does not conform man to Christ’s Passion,
which was painful.”4 Aquinas insightfully replied to that objection: “Al-
though Matrimony is not conformed to Christ’s Passion as regards pain, it is
as regards charity, whereby He suffered for the Church who was to be united
to Him as His spouse.”5
83
84 Chapter 9
Thus Aquinas saw the suffering and death of Jesus not only in terms of
pain but also in terms of love, as expressed in Ephesians 5:25–32. If Jesus’
passion was a sign of his love (charity) for the church, then marriage was
indeed conformed to Jesus’ passion. A sacrament, being a sign, must signify
something. According to Aquinas, the love of husband for wife and wife for
husband signified the love (charity) that Jesus had for his church. This linking
of the love of husband and wife with the love of Jesus and his church might
have opened up a fresh approach to the understanding of love being expressed
through marital intercourse. But Aquinas missed that opportunity. One rea-
son for the disconnection between marital intercourse and the expression of
love was the medieval theory that marital intercourse was not an essential
aspect of marriage. In answering the question, “Whether carnal intercourse
is an integral part of this sacrament?” Aquinas replied: “A sacrament by its
very name denotes a sanctification. But matrimony is holier without carnal
intercourse. . . . Therefore carnal intercourse is not necessary for the sac-
rament.”6 This reply tells us much about why it would be a long journey
toward a spirituality of marital sexuality. Sanctity or holiness was deemed
to be located in the absence of marital intercourse. Churchmen had placed
the flesh (the carnal) in direct opposition to sanctity (the spiritual/the holy).
“Matrimony is holier without carnal intercourse,” wrote Aquinas. This was
a view far removed from the assertions of Genesis and Jesus. God’s creation
of male and female (Gen. 1:27) and Adam’s joyful shout (Gen. 2:24) were
expendable. The implication seems to be that a sexless humankind would
have been a better creation.
THE PURPOSES OF MARITAL INTERCOURSE
Influenced far more by Aristotelian philosophy than by Platonism, Aquinas

renamed Augustine’s three “goods of marriage” by referring to them as the
three “ends” or “purposes of marriage.” Aquinas next divided the three ends
into “primary” and “secondary.” Offspring, Augustine’s “first good of mar-
riage,” was recast as “the procreation and the education of children.” This
combination came to be known as “the primary purpose of marriage.” As a
result of Aquinas’ recasting of the good of offspring as the “principal end,”
the distinction between the primary and secondary ends of marriage domi-
nated the discussion of marriage in the Catholic Church for the next seven
hundred years.7
Rendering the “marital debt” was a secondary purpose of marriage. The
traditional teaching had been that the partner requesting the “marital debt”
committed a venial sin while the partner who yielded to the request com-
St. Thomas Aquinas 85
mitted no sin. Raising the question whether fidelity, the secondary end of
marriage, could justify or “excuse” a couple’s engaging in sexual intercourse,
Aquinas gave a positive answer. He based his conclusion on the Pauline pre-
cept, “Let the husband render the debt to his wife.”8 Justice demanded that
husband or wife give his or her partner what was owed—namely, the act of
marital intercourse.
Such a reply left an opening to other questions: What if, in giving what
was owed, the spouses acted not out of justice but out of love? Would such a
sexual act be meritorious? Aquinas held that any merit in the marital act de-
pended upon the intentions of both husband and wife to conform themselves
to the primary and secondary purposes of marriage. Therefore, the spouses
engaging in marital relations performed a meritorious act only if they had one
of two intentions: “For if the motive for the marriage act be a virtue, whether
of justice that they may render the debt, or of religion, that they may beget
children for the worship of God, it is meritorious.”9
Thus, the marital act would be virtuous on the condition that both partners
intended to procreate a child or to render the marriage debt. However, the
marital act would be sinful if motivated by sexual desire. Whether the sin
would be serious or not also depended on the husband’s motives. Aquinas ex-
plained: “But if the motive be lust, yet not excluding the marriage blessings,
namely that he would by no means be willing to go to another woman, it is
a venial sin; while if he exclude the marriage blessings [the goods of fidelity
and sacrament], so as to be disposed to act in like manner with any woman,
it is a mortal sin.”10
SEXUAL PLEASURE: GOOD OR EVIL?
St. Albert disagreed with Augustine’s theory that there was no sexual plea-
sure before the first sin. Albert proposed that the sexual activity of Adam and
Eve in Paradise would have been accompanied with even more pleasure than
was presently experienced by human beings.11 Speculating that Adam and
Eve had experienced “greater purity of nature and greater sensibility of the
body,”12 Aquinas agreed with his mentor. This speculation might have led to
an important breakthrough if he had concluded that the less intense pleasure
in earthly marriages was also good. But Aquinas was unable to break away
from Augustine’s teaching that sexual pleasure was one of the results of
Adam and Eve’s sin.
St. Albert had also proposed that Adam and Eve’s sin had weakened the
reasoning ability of human beings. In that weakened condition human beings
were not able to enjoy sexual pleasure without temporarily losing sight of
86 Chapter 9
God, the first good.13 Thus the evil in the sexual is that it “effectively distracts
the mind from the contemplation of God.”14 Aquinas refined that idea by
proposing that the evil in sexual relations was located in the husband’s loss
of rational control at the moment of orgasm.15
When Aquinas spoke of the loss of control over the physical dynamics of
intercourse, he was agreeing with some of Augustine’s speculations in The
City of God. Augustine had singled out the human genitals as the chief locus
of the effects of original sin. Aquinas noted “that the infection of original sin
is most apparent in the movements of the members of generation, which are
not subject to reason.”16 Aquinas also thought that a man’s lack of rational
control over his arousal and orgasm was the result of “the infection of origi-
nal sin.”17 Although all aspects of the human soul were seen as “corrupted
by original sin,” the three aspects pertaining to human sexual response were
most deeply infected—namely, “the generative power, the concupiscible
faculty and the sense of touch.”18 The sense of touch was “the most power-
ful incentive to concupiscence.”19 Thus, Aquinas linked an integral aspect of
marital intimacy, the physical touching of one another’s bodies, with the ef-
fects of original sin. This lack of appreciation for sexual pleasure, thoroughly
embedded in a systematic theology of original sin, would basically express
the church’s view of marital sexuality for the next seven centuries.
Debates about Sexual Pleasure

Following Augustine’s line of thought, popes, bishops, canonists, and theo-
logians considered it their duty to warn husbands about the evils of ejacula-
tory pleasure. William of Auxerre (d. 1231), for example, had distinguished
between enjoying pleasure and “suffering pleasure.”20 Deeply influenced by
western Christianity’s adoption of the Stoic outlook, William taught that a
holy man is displeased when he feels any pleasure in the act undertaken to
procreate children. Peter Cantor and his student, Cardinal Courcon, agreed
with William. Although intercourse might have been initiated for the good
purpose of procreating, Cantor and Courcon assumed that the husband com-
mitted venial sin by yielding to the “delight of the flesh.”21
But, to his credit, Aquinas disagreed. If husband and wife were motivated
by the intention to procreate or to render the marriage debt, they acted meri-
toriously, even if they experienced pleasure in the marital act. Using Aristote-
lian categories of thought, Aquinas pointed out that it would be irrational for
married people to “detest” what was good. Despising sexual pleasure in the
act of marital intercourse “is impossible, since according to the Philosopher
. . . the same judgment applies to pleasure as to action, because pleasure in
a good action is good, and in an evil action evil.”22 At last, after more than
a thousand years of churchly theologizing on marital intercourse, someone

clearly stated that the pleasure experienced in the marital act could be good!
Pleasure simply followed the performance of certain actions. If the action
was good (virtuous), a person need not worry about rejecting the resulting
pleasure.
It was common for churchmen to contend that sexual pleasure reduced the
male to an animal state. This had been Augustine’s conclusion: “[I]n inter-
course man becomes all flesh.” While Aquinas agreed with his predecessors
that there was a loss of rational control in the purely “animal act” of sexual
intercourse, he added a distinction. In marital intercourse spouses exercised
reason before engaging in marital relations. Thus they were acting rationally
before they experienced the loss of reason in orgasm. Thomas Aquinas thus
dismissed the idea that the “perfect” use of the marital act required husband
and wife to reject sexual pleasure.
But then, taking away with his left hand what he had given with his right,
Aquinas asked “[w]hether it is a mortal sin for a man to have knowledge of
his wife, with the intention not of a marriage good but merely of pleasure?”
He answered that this marital act would be a mortal sin because “such a man
is said to be too ardent a lover of his wife, because his ardor carries him away
from the goods of marriage.”23
Aquinas and the medieval theologians were skilled in the art of making
precise distinctions. Thus they distinguished “seeking” pleasure from “expe-
riencing” pleasure. It was thought that seeking sexual pleasure was an activity
proper only to animals, not human beings. Therefore, seeking sexual pleasure
was “beneath” human nature because this was to seek something human be-
ings had in common with animals. According to this medieval reasoning,
sexual pleasure could not be seen as an authentic human good. Authentic
human good could only be found in those activities that were directed toward
“higher” or “rational” ends or purposes. It was rational to engage in sex for
the end or purpose of procreation. But acting for the sake of sexual pleasure
was not rational because the act lacked a rational purpose. It was a sin to act
“irrationally.”
Experiencing sexual pleasure was a different matter. According to Aqui-
nas, when spouses sought those purposes that were properly human (i.e., the
procreation of children or the rendering of the marriage debt), the accom-
panying experience of sexual pleasure was not sinful. In such a context the
experience of sexual pleasure was justified because the spouses were seeking
the purposes of sexual intercourse as had been determined by human reason-
ing. Following such principles, a husband had to make some very fine-tuned
distinctions when he found himself becoming sexually aroused. He needed
to ask himself if he was about to “use” his wife as his wife with the intention
88 Chapter 9
to procreate a child, or was he only intending to seek sexual enjoyment with

her? If the latter, he committed a mortal sin. If he only intended to procreate
a child, there was no sin. If he was intending both conception and pleasure,
he committed a venial sin.
“NATURE” GOVERNS MARITAL INTERCOURSE
If it was “natural” for a couple to engage in intercourse for the sake of conserv-
ing the human species, then engaging in sexual intercourse without the purpose
of conserving the human species was “unnatural.” Aquinas wrote: “Whoever,
therefore, uses copulation for the delight which is in it, not referring the inten-
tion to the end intended by nature, acts against nature.”24 Aquinas reached this
conclusion because he thought that God had willed only one function for the
marital act—namely, the biological function of reproduction.
For that same reason Aquinas also concluded that it would be “against
nature” for a husband and wife to engage in marital relations for the sake
of friendship. “Nature” designated that which is essentially needed. While
procreation is essentially needed, friendship between the procreating partners
is not essentially needed. Therefore, friendship between spouses was super-
fluous.25 This is a strange conclusion, but it echoes another medieval idea:
Marriage could be a marriage even when husband and wife agree to forego
all acts of intercourse.
Couples would also act “unnaturally” if they engaged in sexual relations
for the “sake of health.” Some thirteenth-century theologians speculated that
a married couple could rightly engage in intercourse to relieve stress or ten-
sion on the grounds that sexual relations were good for the health of husband
and wife. Aquinas disagreed: “Although it is not evil in itself to intend to keep
oneself in good health, this intention becomes evil if one intends health by
something that is not naturally ordained for that purpose; for instance, if one
sought only bodily health by the sacrament of baptism; and the same applies
to the act of coitus.”26
Aquinas’ mentor, St. Albert, taught that to depart from the “natural posi-
tion” for human intercourse, the husband on top of his wife, was to become
like the “brute animals.”27 Applying a Stoic perspective, Aquinas elaborated
on that concept. “By not observing the natural manner of copulation, either as
to undue means, or as to other monstrous and bestial manners of copulation,”
the married couple committed sin by going “contrary to the natural order of
the venereal act as becoming to the human race.”28 Intercourse with the man
behind the woman was also “unnatural” because it was deemed proper to
animals, not humans.
Problems in Aquinas’ Biological Perspective

From a strictly biological point of view, Aquinas was correct in asserting that
the function of intercourse was reproduction. But human organs may have
more than one biological function. The human tongue functions as an organ
for eating. But the tongue also functions as an organ for speaking. Should
it be “unnatural” to use our tongues for the purpose of speaking when they
were obviously intended for eating? Might marital intercourse also have a re-
lational purpose that enables spouses to express their affection for each other?
Aquinas never addressed that question because he assumed that human sexual
behavior was appropriate to human beings as animals. He viewed the essence
of animal sexual behavior as being purely generative.
It is problematic to hold that a particular bodily organ has one exclusive
function. But, following the Stoics, churchmen had proposed that the seeding
of fields and the reproductive behavior of animals were valid paradigms for
marital behavior. From the thirteenth century through the twentieth, Aqui-
nas’ concept of a “natural” fixed essence of animal sexual behavior that was
purely generative was the foundational principle of the Catholic Church’s
theology of marital intercourse.
FRIENDSHIP AND MARITAL INTERCOURSE
Following Aristotle’s comments on friendship, Aquinas made some astute

observations on the nature of the love of friendship. “Perfect love,” wrote
Aquinas, “is that whereby a man is loved in himself, as when someone
wishes a person some good for his own sake; thus a man loves his friend.”29
However, Thomas Aquinas did not see that sexual intercourse between mar-
ried spouses could be instrumental in fostering the love of husband for his
wife and the love of wife for her husband. Instead, Aquinas drove a wedge
between the love of friendship and marital loving.
Augustine’s pejorative concept, “concupiscence,” had soured Aquinas’
thinking on sexual relations between spouses. Therefore, Aquinas divided
love into two categories, the love of friendship and the love of concupis-
cence.30 Love of friendship was true love but “love of concupiscence” was
perceived as selfish and therefore had nothing to recommend it to theology’s
fond embrace. In treating the relation between love and marital intercourse
Thomas Aquinas could have chosen the road not yet taken. But he decided,
with some modification, to take the well-traveled highway of Augustine’s
sexual pessimism.
It had taken the western church’s theologians nearly eight hundred years
to transform Augustine’s third good, sacramentum, or “stability” (once mar-
90 Chapter 9
ried neither partner could marry anyone else), into “sacrament” in the same
sense that baptism is a sacrament. Noting that marriage is a sacred sign of
the union of Christ and his church, St. Thomas concluded: “And so a good
of marriage is called sacrament.”31 Augustine’s three “goods” of marriage
became Aquinas’ three “ends” of marriage: “The first end [procreation] is
found in marriage in so far as man is animal, the second [fidelity] in so far as
he is man, the third [sacrament] in so far as he is believer.”32
SUMMARY
The belief that the Word was made flesh (John 1:14) is foundational for
Christianity. Surprisingly, two of the greatest minds in the history of the
Catholic Church, Sts. Augustine and Thomas Aquinas, thought that the seek-
ing of pleasure in marital intercourse was an insult to God, the “Supreme
Lord of our body.”33
Although Hinduism and Buddhism taught that human embodiment is illu-
sory, the religions of the East developed an entirely different attitude toward
human sexuality. The leaders of the eastern religions developed “yogic ex-
ercises to perfect the body as spiritual instrument and tantric ritual to relate
sex to spirituality.”34 Until the twentieth century there is little “awareness of
God’s presence in sexual relationship” in the western Christian tradition.
NOTES
1. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, III (Supplementum), trans. Fathers of the

English Dominican Province (New York: Benziger Brothers, Inc., 1947). The Supple-
mentum is an arrangement of Aquinas’ material on marriage from his Commentary
on the Sentences. After Thomas died, Reynaldo of Piperno took Thomas’ writings
from the Commentary on the Sentences and arranged it according to the method used
in the Summa Theologica. I am assuming that Reynaldo was generally faithful in
transmitting the gist of Thomas’ thought. What is taken from the Supplementum will
be attributed to Thomas throughout this chapter.
2. Peter J. Elliott, What God Has Joined. . . . The Sacramentality of Marriage
(New York: Alba House, 1990), 89.
3. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, III (Suppl.), q. 42, art. 3, commentary
2717.
4. Aquinas, Summa Theologica, III (Suppl.), q. 42, art. 1, obj. 3, 2715.
5. Aquinas, Summa Theologica, III (Suppl.), reply obj. 3, 2715.
6. Aquinas, Summa Theologica, III, q. 42, sed contra. 2, 718.
7. Michael Lawler, Marriage and Sacrament: A Theology of Christian Marriage
(Collegeville, Minn.: The Liturgical Press, 1993), 61.
8. Aquinas, Summa Theologica, III (Suppl.), q. 41, art. 4, 2, 714.

11. Derrick Sherwin Bailey, Sexual Relation in Christian Thought (New York:
Harper & Brothers Publishers, 1959), 134.
12. Aquinas, Summa Theologica, I, q. 98, art. 2, 494.
15. See Aquinas, Summa Theologica, I–II, q. 34, reply obj. 1, 737.
16. Aquinas, Summa Theologica, I–II, q. 83, art. 4, sed contra, 961.
17. Aquinas, Summa Theologica, I–II, q. 83, art. 4, sed contra, 961.
18. Aquinas, Summa Theologica, I–II, q. 83, art. 4, commentary, 961–62.
19. Aquinas, Summa Theologica, I–II, q. 83, art. 4, commentary, 961.
20. William of Auxerre, Summa Aurea, Fol. 288r, cited in John T. Noonan, Con-
traception (New York: The New American Library, 1965), 242.
21. Abellan, En Fin, 106, cited in Noonan, Contraception, 242.
22. Aquinas, Summa Theologica, III (Suppl.), q. 49, art. 6, commentary, 2, 742.
23. Aquinas, Summa Theologica, III (Suppl.), q. 49, art. 6, commentary, 2, 742.
24. Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on the Four Books of the Sentences, 4.33.1.3,
cited in Noonan, Contraception, 293.
25. Theodore Mackin, What Is Marriage? (New York: Paulist Press, 1982),
179–80.
26. Aquinas, Commentary on the Four Books of the Sentences, 4.31.2.2, cited in
Noonan, Contraception, 294.
27. Albert the Great, On the Sentences, 4.31.24, cited in Noonan, Contraception,
293.
28. Aquinas, Summa Theologica, I–II, q. 154, art. 11, commentary, 1, 825.
29. Aquinas, Summa Theologica, I–II, q. 17, art. 8, commentary, 1, 247.
30. Aquinas, Summa Theologica, I–II, q. 28, art. 1, 709.
31. Aquinas, Summa Theologica, I–II, q. 65, art. 1, 2, 808.
32. Aquinas, Summa Theologica, I–II, q. 65, art. 1, 2, 808.
33. Aquinas, Summa Theologica, I–II, q. 153, art. 3, obj. 2 and reply, 1, 812.
34. Mary Ann McPherson Oliver, Conjugal Spirituality (Kansas City, Mo.: Sheed
& Ward, 1994), 81–82.
10
Some Attempts to See Other Values
in Marital Intercourse
MORAL THEOLOGY AND MARRIAGE
Moral theology deals with human choices, values, and actions. Since the
first centuries of Christianity’s existence, theologians and leaders had based
their view of human nature on both Zeno’s emotion-denying Stoicism and
Plato’s dualistic vision of the world of sense perception and the ideal world
of eternal forms. But these philosophical preferences led to the perception
of human emotions as dangerous threats to both spiritual and rational living.
During the thirteenth century Aquinas had joined Aristotle’s rationalism to
the Stoic view of the human person. But still the affective dimension of the
person continued to be discounted.
Richard Middleton (d. 1307), an English Franciscan priest, was the first
significant theologian to propose that seeking pleasure in the marital act
was morally acceptable. Middleton made three important points. First, he
disagreed with Augustine’s opinion that seeking pleasure in marital relations
was a matter of yielding to concupiscence. Middleton held there is an impor-
tant difference between satiating concupiscence and seeking moderate mari-
tal pleasure.1 Thus there was no sin in a couple’s seeking moderate delight.
Second, Middleton followed through on Aristotle’s thinking in a way that
Thomas Aquinas did not. If, as Aristotle had taught, the regulation of delight
is virtue, then seeking delight cannot be evil in itself.2 If husband and wife de-
cided to enjoy marital relations, they would commit no sin in doing so. Third,
Middleton proposed that seeking intercourse with one’s spouse is an act of
chastity. As long as husband and wife had at the back of their minds the idea
that they would not be enjoying sexual relations without the decency of mar-
riage between them, they were acting in accord with the virtue of chastity.3
93
94 Chapter 10
But the church’s leaders could not rid themselves of Augustine’s view that
sexual pleasure came from concupiscence, a result of Adam and Eve’s sin.
So Middleton was ignored.
A MONK’S OPINIONS
Dennis (1402–1471), a Carthusian monk, held that engaging in the marital

act for enjoyment had to be sinful because this teaching was “common and
more secure and more consonant with that of Augustine.”4 Responding to a
request for some instruction on living the Christian life as married persons,
Dennis wrote The Praiseworthy Life of the Married. He said that when the
marital act was performed for the sake of procreation or to pay the marital
debt, the act was good.
Dennis also offered ideas regarding certain aspects of married love: “The
love of husband and wife should be ‘multiple, special, cordial.’ They should
love each other with a spiritual love, desiring each other’s salvation; they
should love each other with a natural love as fellow creatures; they should
love each other with a social love, as human beings who share each other’s
lives.”5 But Dennis still had a problem: Should married people “love each
other with a carnal love?” Referring to the traditional opinion, Dennis an-
swered: “It appears that they should not, because carnal love is entirely un-
clean and tainted with sin, as the theologians say.”6
But he also knew that certain theologians were of the opinion “that married
couples can love each other blamelessly with carnal love.”7 Perhaps carnal
love might be legitimate because God “joined” pleasure to the marriage act.
Even so, such enjoyment had to be yoked with its “proper aim,” that is, pro-
creation or rendering the marriage debt.8 Committing himself where Aquinas
had waffled, Dennis consistently applied Aristotle’s analysis of pleasure. If
an act was good, then the pleasure that followed the act was also good. Dennis
concluded: “Therefore the pleasure from a good and virtuous act is good; and
to the extent that it is good, it can be desired.”9
Dennis’ opinion that sexual pleasure can be both desired and good might
have served as a breakthrough in Catholic moral reasoning. But Dennis
belonged to an insignificant monastery and he wrote The Praiseworthy Life
of the Married for a small audience of acquaintances. His writing changed
nothing. While churchmen paid scant attention to his work, Dennis must be
recognized as one of the first writers to present an analysis of marital rela-
tions that clearly went beyond the limitations placed by the Stoic rule and
Augustine’s sexual pessimism.10
Some Attempts to See Other Values in Marital Intercourse 95
MARTIN LE MAISTRE
Unlike Dennis the Carthusian, who came and went without much notice,
Martin Le Maistre (1432–1481) was noticed and then rejected. Teaching at
the University of Paris, Le Maistre boldly challenged both the sexual pessi-
mism of the church fathers and the overly rationalist analyses of the purposes
of marital intercourse made by Aquinas and other late medieval theologians.
Le Maistre’s book, Moral Questions, was published posthumously in 1490.
While Martin’s approach seems like simple “common sense,” his contem-
poraries regarded his thought as being too radical.11 Using the Aristotelian
concept of virtue as the means between two extremes, Le Maistre defined
“conjugal chastity” as “a mean between immodesty and insensibility.”12 Thus
Le Maistre steered a course between two unacceptable alternatives. “Immod-
esty” applied to those married persons who could be accused of loving each
other with the passion of adulterers. “Insensibility” was the fault of those who
stoically tried to avoid the feelings of sexual pleasure. Le Maistre modestly
asserted that “not every copulation of spouses not performed to generate
offspring is an act opposed to conjugal chastity.”13 Challenging Augustine,
Aquinas, and most churchmen, Le Maistre declared that spouses could act
virtuously when they engaged in marital intercourse for other reasons besides
the procreation of a child.
And so Le Maistre offered his non-sinful reasons for engaging in marital
intercourse: the case of a spouse’s response to a request for the rendering of
the marital debt; the debated case of having relations to avoid the temptation
to commit adultery; and the case rejected by St. Thomas Aquinas—namely,
the seeking of bodily health. To these Le Maistre added a new purpose, that
of “calming the mind.” He wrote: “It sometimes happens that the desire of
lust is so vehement, and so disturbs the mind, that a man is scarcely master
of himself.”14
Le Maistre recognized the legitimacy of strong sexual feelings when he
reasoned that married people could morally engage in sexual intimacy to
calm the mind. He was one of the first theologians to break away from the
attribution of sexual longings to mere carnal lust. He also proposed that it was
lawful for spouses to respond to their sexual feelings. There was no sin in a
husband’s having sexual relations with his spouse “given to him for the sake
of solace and remedy.”15
Thus, Le Maistre directly challenged traditional theological conclusions
by denying that it was a venial sin to undertake marital intercourse to avoid
fornication. He also denied that it was a mortal sin to engage in marital rela-
tions for the sake of obtaining pleasure. La Maistre had confronted more than
96 Chapter 10
a thousand years of theological consensus about the sinfulness of marital

relations by stating, “It isn’t so.” But it would take another five hundred years
before the Catholic Church would agree with this theologian.
Responding to objections that might be raised, Le Maistre said that
Augustine’s objection to seeking pleasure in marital relations was aimed at
“immoderate” and “unnatural” intercourse. When it came to the traditional
teaching that seeking pleasure in marital intercourse was serving lust, Le
Maistre declared: “This is not to serve lust, but to place lust under the yoke of
reason.”16 He also noted that the traditional doctrine was a danger to people’s
salvation. Some moral theologians were telling husbands that giving into
sexual desire for their wives was almost as sinful as indulging in sex with
any woman at all!17 Finally, he argued against those theologians who said that
sexual intercourse with one’s pregnant wife was sinful. Some wives are “im-
mediately made pregnant.” When that happens, the strict moralists “expose
to the danger of mortal sin whoever seeks the debt.”18
With such reasoning Le Maistre might have helped believers escape from
centuries of negative thinking about marital intimacy. Unfortunately, his
Moral Questions “did not . . . make a dent on scholastic theology.”19
JOHN MAJOR:
ANOTHER REJECTED MORAL THEOLOGIAN
A Scottish theologian, John Major (1470–1550), took note of Le Maistre’s

ideas. In surveying the ancient authorities and their opinions on the legitimate
use of marital intercourse, Major concluded that many of the church’s doc-
tors, bishops, saints, and theologians were “far too rigid.”20 Not at all awed by
Augustine, Major stated that the saints “must be interpreted narrowly where
they speak extremely.”21 Noting Huggucio’s opinion that all experience of
sexual pleasure in the marital act was at least venially sinful, Major concluded
that the idea was “most absurd.”22
Summing up his argument regarding the non-sinfulness of marital in-
tercourse, Major stated: “Whatever men say, it is difficult to prove that a
man sins in knowing his own wife for the sake of having pleasure.”23 To
emphasize his point, he said that it was no more a sin to engage in marital
intercourse for the pleasure in it than “to eat a handsome apple for the plea-
sure of it.”24 However, Major would not take this opinion to the public. He
stated that his views were not “for the crowd” and suggested that married
people might learn about his views in private counseling or from priests in
the confessional.25
Some Attempts to See Other Values in Marital Intercourse 97
ANTI-PLEASURE TRADITIONS REASSERTED
For the next hundred years the ideas of Le Maistre and Major were met with
hostility. Both men were unable to cite any precedent for their ideas in the
writings of the church fathers or other medieval theologians. Furthermore,
the debate concerning the ideas of Le Maistre and Major focused on the
legitimacy of marital relations undertaken for the purpose of experiencing
pleasure.26 Since sexual pleasure had long been associated with lust, sin, and
Satan, it was not surprising that the winners of the controversy were those
who sided with the conclusions of Augustine and Thomas Aquinas.
Teaching at the University of Salamanca, Dominic Soto (1494–1560) was
also Spain’s imperial theologian. Attacking Major’s opinion that it was no
more a sin to engage in marital relations for the sake of pleasure than to eat
a handsome apple for the pleasure in it, Soto argued that eating for pleasure
constituted a futile or purposeless act. Thus such eating was a venial sin. En-
gaging in marital intercourse for pleasure was also an act without sufficient
purpose. Soto pointed out that the degree of sinfulness in seeking intercourse
for pleasure was far more serious than that of eating for pleasure. Intercourse
upset a man’s reason far more than eating did.27
Soto also attacked Le Maistre’s idea that marital intercourse fell under the
category of virtue in the sense that “conjugal chastity” was a mean between
immodesty and insensibility. On the contrary, said Soto, virtue dealt only
with those actions that were pleasing to God. For many centuries church-
men had consistently taught that engaging in marital intercourse without
a procreative purpose was displeasing to God because it was sinful. Soto
declared that it would be most rash to accept the ideas of Le Maistre and
Major because Augustine, Aquinas, and “all theologians” stood against these
two upstarts.28
SUMMARY
It was true: “All theologians” stood against the idea that acts of marital
intimacy were pleasing to God. Churchmen had created a false problem
when they sought to find “excuses” or reasons that would permit spouses
to engage in marital intercourse without committing sin. Churchmen were
unable to see that the pleasure accompanying marital intercourse is good
simply because marital intercourse is good. As the author of the first chapter
of Genesis noted, “God saw all he had made, and indeed it was very good”
(1:31). Jesus himself had looked at God’s design for man and woman and
98 Chapter 10
had unconditionally accepted that design (Mark 10:6–9). But the eyesight of
most Christian leaders was not as sharp.
NOTES

1965), 355–56.
4. Dennis the Carthusian, On the Sentences, 4.31.1, cited in Noonan, Contracep-
tion, 366.
6. Dennis the Carthusian, The Praiseworthy Life of the Married, art. 8, cited in
Theodore Mackin, The Marital Sacrament (Mahwah, N.J.: Paulist Press, 1989), 500.
13. Martin Le Maistre, Moral Questions II, fol. 48v, cited in Noonan, Contracep-
tion, 370.
14. Le Maistre, Moral Questions II, cited in Noonan, Contraception, 370.
15. Le Maistre, Moral Questions II, cited in Noonan, Contraception, 370.
16. Le Maistre, Moral Questions II, fol. 50r, cited in Noonan, Contraception, 371.
20. John Major, On the Sentences, 4.31, as cited in Noonan, Contraception, 374.
21. Major, On the Sentences, 4.31, as cited in Noonan, Contraception, 375.
24. Major, On the Sentences, 4.31.1, as cited in Noonan, Contraception, 375.
25. Major, On the Sentences, 4.31.1, as cited in Noonan, Contraception, 375.
28. See Dominic Soto, On the Sentences, 4.31.1.3, as cited in Noonan, Contracep-
tion, 387.
11
The Council of Trent:
Motives for Marrying and Motives for
Abstaining from Marital Intercourse
OVERVIEW
Responding to the Protestant Reformation, Catholic bishops met in the cit-

ies of Trent and Bologna between the years 1545 and 1563. Those bishops
mandated better education of clergy, called for the establishment of seminar-
ies, and produced a definitive summary of Catholic doctrine, The Catechism
of the Council of Trent. Intended to guide Catholic pastors and teachers, The
Catechism of the Council of Trent “became the sourcebook of religious in-
struction in the Catholic Church.”1
Although the sixteenth century was a time of renewed interest in the study of
the Bible, the bishops at Trent neither encouraged biblical studies nor did they
“provide a biblically orientated catechism.”2 Thus, the Catholic Church missed
an opportunity to reexamine the interpretation of those scripture passages that
had often provided the basis for her negative views on marital intimacy.
THE CATECHISM’S TREATMENT OF MARRIAGE
The treatment of “the Sacrament of Matrimony” opens with a putdown of mar-

riage, stating that a life of sexual abstinence would be better. The authors of the
Catechism, lacking awareness of the historical context in which St. Paul wrote,
directed all pastors to have as “their most earnest wish” what St. Paul wanted
for the Corinthians: “‘I would that you all were even as myself’ (1 Cor. 7:7),
that is, that all would observe the virtue of continency.”3 The Catechism then
directed pastors to explain marriage in such a way that lay people would not be
“deceived by a false appearance of marriage.” Such a false view of marriage
would lead the laity to “stain . . . their souls with turpitude and wicked lusts.”4
99
100 Chapter 11
The conclusion of medieval theologians regarding the non-necessity of

marital intercourse in a true marriage were combined with Augustine’s specu-
lations about Adam and Eve’s sexual experience in Eden. Thus the Catechism
asked parish priests to teach the faithful that “consummation is not neces-
sarily required to constitute a true marriage; for it is quite certain [emphasis
added] that our first parents, before their fall, when, according to the holy
Fathers, no consummation took place, were joined in real marriage (Gen.
2:22).”5 Such assertions as these passed along the negative attitude toward
marital intercourse. A thousand years before the meetings at Trent, the church
fathers had speculated that sexual consummation did not take place in the
Garden of Eden. Other ecclesial authorities repeated those speculations. The
speculations became traditions. Finally, the authors of the Catechism con-
cluded that it was “quite certain” that there was no sexual “consummation”
before our first parents sinned.6 The connection between sexual intimacy and
sin was again reaffirmed.
Would the bishops have some good words to say about marital commu-
nion? In the tenth question/topic the Catechism of Trent treated the way God
had created human beings as male and female (Gen. 1:26). God intended
that man and woman would become “two in one flesh” (Gen. 2:21–24).7 The
Catechism noted that Jesus cited these very words of Genesis when he spoke
about divorce (Matt. 19:6). However, the Catechism then ignored saying
anything about the God-intended goodness of marital intercourse that enabled
man and wife to become two in one flesh. Instead, the authors focused on the
indissolubility of the sacrament of marriage: “Not only did God institute mar-
riage, but he also, as the holy Council of Trent declares, rendered it perpetual
and indissoluble; for the Savior says: ‘What God hath joined together, let no
man separate’” (Matt. 19:6).8
In the twelfth topic one finds the statement that human population had in-
creased to such a degree that the obligation to procreate (Gen. 1:27) was no lon-
ger in effect. Since that was the case, there was no real need for people to marry.
So the bishops recommended virginity to all: “For, now that the human race is
increased, not only is there no law rendering marriage obligatory on any one,
but, on the contrary, virginity is highly extolled and strongly recommended in
the Sacred Scriptures to every one, as superior to the marriage state.”9
REASONS OR CAUSES FOR MARRYING
The authors of the Catechism listed the reasons why people might marry. The
first “natural” reason is the mutual support through which “each, assisted by
the help of the other, may more easily bear the ills of life, and support the
weakness of old age.”10
The Council of Trent 101
The second reason for marrying “is the desire for procreation.”11 The Cat-
echism’s authors accepted the “instruction” of Tobit’s angelic guide as if it
were inspired scripture. Using the words that Jerome had placed on Raphael’s
lips to condemn sexual desire as “lust,” the Catechism stated: “Hear me and I
will show thee who they are over whom the devil can prevail. For they who in
such manner receive matrimony as to shut out God . . . and to give themselves
over to their lust, as the horse and mule . . . over them the devil hath power.”12
Seeking sexual delight in marital intercourse was wrong on two counts. First,
sexual passion shut God out of the lives of husband and wife. Secondly,
sexual desire reduced the spouses to the animal state.13 There was but one
motive that freed the couple from sin—namely, the procreative purpose.14
The third end or reason for marrying was to have a remedy for concupis-
cence. Using the traditional misinterpretation of Paul’s first letter to the Cor-
inthians, the bishops’ Catechism declared that marriage was a refuge for those
who could not control their sexual appetites: “He who is conscious of his own
weakness, and is unwilling to bear the conflict of the flesh, may use the rem-
edy of marriage to avoid sins of lust; on which the Apostle writes: ‘Because
of fornication let every man have his own wife, and let every woman have
her own husband.’”15
Couples who desired to marry “piously and religiously” should have at
least one of the three preceding reasons. But they might also have certain ad-
ditional motives for marrying, such as “the desire of leaving an heir, wealth,
beauty, illustrious descent [and] congeniality of disposition.”16 Thus there
were three natural reasons for marrying and five “non-repugnant” reasons
for marrying.
The motive of marrying someone for love was not mentioned. By tradition
“love” had been associated with such sinful and unholy things as sexual con-
cupiscence, passion that was too ardent, and/or adultery. Noteworthy is the
fact that the Catechism ignored the mention of love even when referring to
the marriage of Jacob and Rachel. According to the Tridentine bishops, Jacob
married his wife for the “non-repugnant” motive of desiring beauty: “[F]or
the Patriarch Jacob is not reprehended in the Sacred Scriptures for having
chosen Rachel, allured by her beauty, in preference to Leah (Gen. 29).”17 The
bishops ignored the assertions that “Jacob had fallen in love with Rachel”
(Gen. 29:18) and that “Jacob served seven years for Rachel, yet they seemed
to him a few days because of his love for her” (Gen. 29:20).
SACRAMENTAL MARRIAGE
When the bishops did speak of “love,” they did not speak of an embodied
love, i.e., love that is both symbolized and physically expressed in the act
102 Chapter 11
of marital intercourse. Rather, they referred to a sacramental love, i.e., mar-

riage as a permanent union that reflected the indissoluble love of Jesus for
his church. Thus marriage, but not intercourse, is described as a “holy union
of man and wife.”18
In question/topic 23, Augustine’s “goods of marriage” are called the “three
advantages” of marriage: “The faithful are moreover to be taught, that there
are three advantages of marriage—offspring, faith, the sacrament—which
alleviate, by compensating for, those disadvantages which the Apostle points
out in these words: ‘Such shall have tribulation of the flesh’ (1 Cor. 7:28); and
by which sexual intercourse, which, without marriage, would be deservedly
reprobated, becomes an honorable union.”19
In treating fidelity, Augustine’s second good of marriage, the Catechism
demonstrated the church’s traditional attitude of conditional acceptance. Acts
of marital intercourse ought to exclude sexual passion: “Matrimonial faith
also demands, that husband and wife be united by a certain singular, and holy,
and pure love, a love not such as that of adulterers, but such as that which
Christ cherishes towards the Church.”20 Then the bishops rolled out the old
Stoic distinction between those rational husbands engaging in marital inter-
course for procreation and those adulterous husbands seeking sexual enjoy-
ment with their wives! For the first time in the Catholic Church’s history the
Stoic putdown of sexual pleasure in married love was expressed in a doctrinal
statement promulgated by pope and bishops. Since Jesus did not love with
selfish passion, so spouses ought to do the same.
The married were to be given two lessons of instruction. First there was
the lesson that was “to be specially impressed on the mind of the faithful”—
namely, that “marriage is not to be used from motives of sensuality or plea-
sure, but that its use is to be restrained within those limits which, as we have
above shown, are prescribed by the Lord.”21 But the limits “prescribed by the
Lord” were the prescriptions found in the ancient Stoic message of marital
restraint adopted by the fathers of the church more than a thousand years ear-
lier. Driving the point home, the Catechism offered its scriptural proof: “They
[the married] should be mindful of the exhortation of the Apostle: ‘They that
have wives, let them be as those who have not’” (1 Cor. 7:29).22
Here is another example of churchmen’s overlooking the context of Paul’s
declaration. The use of such proof-texts might be called “cherry-picking the
Scriptures.” When Paul wrote “they that have wives, let them be as those
who have not,” he was not urging married couples to abstain from marital
relations. Rather, in light of his belief in an imminent Second Coming, Paul
wanted his fellow believers to take a loose hold on the things of this life. The
Tridentine authors then drove home their mistaken interpretation by citing the
ancient Stoic bromide: “A wise man ought to love his wife with judgment,
The Council of Trent 103
not with passion. . . . There is no greater turpitude than that a husband should
love his wife as he would an adulteress.”23
The Catechism’s second instruction stated: “The faithful are also to be
taught sometimes to abstain from the marriage debt, in order to devote them-
selves to prayer and supplication to God.”24 “In particular” the specific times
for sexual abstinence were “for at least three days previous to receiving the
holy Eucharist, and oftener during the solemn Fast of Lent.”25 Abstinence
from marital communion with one’s spouse was deemed the proper way to
enter into sacramental communion with Jesus.
Next, the Catechism listed the good effects that were to be achieved by
abstaining from marital intercourse. By foregoing their sexual embraces hus-
band and wife would “find the blessings themselves of marriage augmented
by a daily increasing accumulation of divine grace.”26 Secondly, abstinence
would better enable husband and wife to live “in the pursuit and practice of
piety.”27 Thirdly, upon becoming good Stoics, the spouses would find that
their rejection of unruly sexual passion would enable them to spend their lives
“tranquilly and placidly.”28
One might wonder about the suggestion that avoiding marital intercourse
brings about “a daily increasing accumulation of divine grace.” Why would
sexual abstinence in marriage bring a couple into a deeper union with God?
Perhaps to think this way is to be unable to see God’s presence in sexual
relationship. After some fourteen centuries of rather negative theologizing on
marriage, that is not surprising. Since the next ecumenical council would not
be held until 1869, The Catechism of the Council of Trent would be the only
authoritative Catholic teaching on marriage and marital sexuality for the next
three centuries.
NOTES
1989), 501.
2. William Bausch, Pilgrim Church (Mystic: Twenty-Third Publications, 1989),
272–73.
3. Catechism of the Council of Trent, trans. Very Rev. J. Donovan, D.D. (Dublin:
James Duffy & Co., Ltd., 1829), Question I, 291.
4. Catechism of the Council of Trent, 291.
5. Catechism of the Council of Trent, Question 7, 294.
7. Catechism of the Council of Trent, Question 10, 294–95.
104 Chapter 11
10. Catechism of the Council of Trent, Question 13, 295–96.

12. This text was based on Jerome’s Vulgate, which was the official Catholic
translation for more than a thousand years. Jerome, on his own initiative, had added
these words to the Greek text, attributing them to the angel Raphael.
12
A New Development:
Spousal “Affection” Related to “Love”
DESIDERIUS ERASMUS, MARTIN LUTHER,

AND ST. AUGUSTINE
On the eve of the Protestant Reformation, Desiderius Erasmus (1466–1536)

“proposed a reform of theology that might have affected the Catholic un-
derstanding of the marital sacrament profoundly.”1 Having studied both
the fathers of the church and the Holy Scriptures, Erasmus realized that
significant doctrinal conclusions had been based on skewed interpretations
of the Bible.2 So he urged scholars to go back to the original biblical lan-
guages and to examine the scriptures in terms of what their authors were
trying to communicate to their original audiences. The Catholic Church’s
doctrinal approach to marital sexuality might have taken a more positive
turn if Erasmus’ ideas about biblical interpretation had received a hearing.
Unfortunately, the placing of some of his writings on the church’s index of
forbidden books dissolved whatever influence Erasmus might have had on
Catholic thinking.
On the other hand, Martin Luther (1483–1546) accepted Augustine’s
opinion that original sin was the origin of sexual passion and pleasure (con-
cupiscence). He believed that in Paradise “the act of begetting would have
been a most sacred one without any passion of lust such as there is now.”3 It
was a case of Augustinian déjà vu. Luther wrote that “the clear indications of
original sin” are found in that “hideousness inherent in our flesh, namely, the
bestial desire and lust.”4
105
106 Chapter 12
THE CATHOLIC TURN FROM AUGUSTINE
Martin Luther’s pessimistic views on marital relations offered the Catholic

Church another opportunity to revise her own pessimistic understanding of
marital intercourse. Meeting at the Council of Trent (1545–1563), the bish-
ops’ adoption of the systematic theology of Thomas Aquinas amounted to a
subtle turn away from Augustine’s approach to marital morality. For several
generations this turn from Augustine became a weak trend among those
theologians who wrote about marriage during the late sixteenth and early
seventeenth centuries.
Robert Bellarmine (1542–1611), Jesuit theologian and Italian cardinal,
demonstrated the subtle shift from Augustine’s theory of original sin and its
lust-producing concupiscence. Not only was Bellarmine’s teaching on mar-
riage “at least as detailed and careful as any in his time,” but also, judging
from the frequency with which his writings on marriage were cited, his writ-
ing “was then taken as an exemplary proponent of the Catholic teaching.”5
Although Bellarmine agreed with Augustine’s view that the sin of Adam
and Eve had brought about disordered concupiscence, Bellarmine did not
think that their sin affected the dynamics of human sexuality. If Bellarmine’s
view had been accepted, then human sexual dynamics, including sexual de-
sire and sexual pleasure, could be recognized as being in accord with God’s
intended design for men and women. But Augustine’s sexual pessimism was
well entrenched in the mindset of western Christianity and so this recognition
did not take place.
In 1602 Thomas Sanchez (1550–1610), a Jesuit moral theologian, pub-
lished his comprehensive work, The Holy Sacrament of Matrimony. Sanchez
broke new ground when he proposed that married persons in the state of grace
could be presumed to have a virtual intention of referring their deeds to God.6
Therefore, when husband and wife intend “only to copulate as spouses,” there
was no sin involved.7 Sanchez’s conclusion was revolutionary. Starting with
a general outlook of Christian spouses seeking to do their best to love God,
Sanchez had moved beyond the Stoic rule, beyond Augustine’s demand for a
procreative intention, and beyond most of the centuries-old debate regarding
lawful purposes for initiating marital intercourse.
But one difficult question remained: Was it sinful to engage in marital rela-
tions “for pleasure alone”? Sanchez conceded that seeking pleasure “alone”
was venially sinful. Such an act was “a perversion of order” because it turned
the consequence of an act into an end or purpose of the act.8 Nevertheless, a
Christian couple generally seeking to do the will of God would not be acting
“for pleasure alone” when they exercised their marital rights.9 This opinion
was never publicly discussed, so married persons never heard about it.
A New Development 107
Sanchez also disagreed with the common opinion that a husband com-
mitted a mortal sin if his passionate kissing and caressing of his wife led to
“pollution” (ejaculation). “Embraces, kisses, and other touchings customary
among spouses to show and to foster mutual love,” even though there was
risk of excitation to the point of ejaculation, were not mortally sinful.10 San-
chez’s reasoning is significant: Spouses could rightly engage in such sexually
stimulating kisses and embraces provided that they had an “urgent cause” for
doing so. A spouse’s need to “show and foster mutual love” was a sufficiently
“urgent cause.”11 So it was that at the beginning of the seventeenth century
a Catholic theologian made a tenuous connection between sexually exciting
actions and a couple’s manifestation of love for each other. Sanchez had rec-
ognized the value of physically expressed marital affection.
LAXISM
Soon, however, Bellarmine, Sanchez, and others were accused of fostering

“laxism.” Such was the pejorative term given to an approach that favored
greater liberty for individuals in deciding moral issues. The movement
away from Augustine’s rigid approach to morality produced a counter re-
action. Theological schools at Verdun, Malines, and Paris came under the
influence of teachers and writers who invoked St. Clement of Alexandria,
St. Augustine, St. Jerome, and St. Thomas Aquinas in order to assert that
the only non-sinful act of marital intercourse was intercourse undertaken
for the purpose of procreation.12 The severe reaction against lenient ideas
concerning marital sexuality culminated in “Jansenism.” Cornelius Jansen
(1585–1638), bishop of Ypres and theologian at the University of Louvain,
became the new champion of Augustine’s pessimistic views regarding
sexual morality.
The majority of hardline Belgian and French theologians were particu-
larly influential in seminaries where men were studying to become diocesan
priests. Through the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries the Augustinian
approach was particularly dominant at Louvain in Belgium and Douai in
France, schools where English and Irish students studied for the priesthood.13
The Irish priests trained on the continent brought a grave sexual pessimism
back to Ireland. In the nineteenth century the Irish clerics would bring that
same pessimism to the United States.
Charles Billuart (1685–1757), a Dominican scholar at the theological
school in Douai, Belgium, exemplified the moral rigorism of the eighteenth-
century theologians. He vigorously insisted that the procreative purpose was
the one morally acceptable purpose for a couple’s initiating intercourse and
108 Chapter 12
that people who were old and sterile could marry “intending to live chastely
or using marriage by only returning but not demanding the debt.”14
ST. FRANCES DE SALES AND “THE DEVOUT LIFE”
Since few married people lived up to the rule concerning intercourse only for
procreation, marriage could hardly be thought of as a holy state of life. But
then Francis de Sales (1567–1622), spiritual director, author, and bishop of
Geneva, wrote his Introduction to the Devout Life (1607). With his influence
spanning more than three centuries of Catholic thinking about marriage, de
Sales became the most widely read author “of all the Catholic writers who
turned their attention to marriage in the generations from the Council of Trent
until well into the present [twentieth] century.”15
Francis de Sales proposed this simple but unusual thesis: Lay people could
live holy or “devout” lives. He added nothing new to the traditional teaching,
but he made a contribution to the Catholic Church’s developing theology of
marriage. Thus, when evaluating “the measure that the common husband-
wife relationship in Roman Catholicism changed from that of pledged duty to
tender affection,” the bishop of Geneva can be credited as “the ecclesiastical
writer who more than all others inspired the change.”16
“Instructions for Married Persons”

Francis de Sales opened his “Instructions for Married Persons” by citing
St. Paul: “Matrimony is a great sacrament, but I speak in Christ, and in the
Church (Eph. 5:32).”17 De Sales stated that marriage was honorable “in all
things, because its origin, its end, its advantages, its form, and its matter
are all holy.”18 In spite of such high praise for the sacrament of matrimony,
Bishop de Sales could not escape yielding to the ancient bias against sexual
pleasure. The bishop proposed three kinds of love: “O you that are married; I
tell you not to love each other with a natural love, for it is thus that the turtles
love; nor do I say love one another with a human love, for the heathens do
this; but I say to you, after the great Apostle, Husbands love your wives, as
Christ loved the Church (Eph. 5).”19 Being spiritual but not sexual, Christ-like
love was the ideal. Bishop de Sales thus embraced the traditional dualism that
divided the person into body and spirit.
But the bishop had good news: “It is also God, O my friends! Who, with
His invisible hand, has tied the knot of the holy bond of your marriage, and
given you to one another.”20 If it was God’s will that a particular man and a
particular woman marry each other, it followed that their married state would
also be an expression of God’s will. This implied that married couples no

longer had to regard themselves as persons who had chosen the low road of
a halfhearted way of living the Christian life. In Francis’ opinion, marriage
could be a state in life in which wife and husband could “cherish each other
with a holy, sacred, and divine love.”21
Referring to Augustine’s third good, stability (sacrament), Francis wrote:
“The first effect of this love is an indissoluble union of your hearts.”22 How-
ever, St. Francis was unable to recognize the marital act as both symbol and
expression of the love of husband and wife for each other. So he wrote: “Now
this union is not understood principally of the body, but of the heart, of the
affection, and of the love.”23
Commenting on the account of the creation of Eve from Adam’s side
(Gen. 2:18–24), the bishop exhorted husband and wife to love each other
“cordially” and “tenderly.”24 They were to love “with a respectful love,” with
a love “full of reverence,” and “with charity, tenderness and complacency.”25
However, such expressions of tender love between husband and wife would
not include marital intercourse.
If husband and wife were to demonstrate affection for each other, they had
to do so only by means of “pure” caresses: “Love and fidelity joined together
always produce familiarity and confidence; and therefore the saints have
used many reciprocal caresses in their marriage; caresses truly affectionate,
but pure, tender, and sincere.”26 Francis de Sales did not encourage married
couples to caress each other in sexual intercourse. While giving his approval
of a couple’s celebrating the anniversary date of their wedding, he wanted the
couple to celebrate that anniversary in prayer, not in the marriage bed. “For
my part,” he wrote, “I should approve of the reviving of this custom, provided
it were not attended with preparations of worldly and sensual recreations; but
that the husband and wife should confess and communicate on that day, and,
recommend to God, with a more than ordinary fervor, the happy progress of
their marriage.”27
“Of the Sanctity of the Marriage Bed”

Chapter 39 clearly manifested de Sales’ tendency to separate holy marital
love from sexual marital love. Disapproving sexual pleasure, the bishop de-
clared: “The marriage bed ought to be undefiled, as the Apostle says (Heb.
13:5), that is to say, exempt from uncleanness, and all profane filthiness.”28
Then, echoing Augustine’s wrongheaded theory of sin as the origin of sexual
desire (concupiscence), de Sales stated: “Holy marriage was first instituted
in the earthly paradise, where, as yet, there never had been any disorder of
concupiscence, or of anything immodest.”29
110 Chapter 12
Bishop Francis also referred to Augustine’s comparison of eating and

carnal intercourse in his The Good of Marriage: “For what food is to the
conservation of the man, this sexual intercourse is unto the conservation of
the race.” De Sales explained: “There is some resemblance between lustful
pleasures and those that are taken in eating.”30 That resemblance is due to
both pleasures having a “relation to the flesh, though the former by reason of
their brutal vehemence are simply carnal.”31 It was de Sales’ opinion that the
degree of carnality in a person’s action depended upon the degree of pleasure
accompanying the action.
Anticipating or looking forward to engaging in the marital act was char-
acteristic of “a base and abject spirit.”32 Neither did Bishop de Sales want
couples to bask in the afterglow of marital intercourse. Such base activity
would be “to amuse ourselves afterwards with the pleasure which we took
in eating, keeping it alive in our words and imagination, and delighting in
the recollection of the sensual satisfaction we had in swallowing down those
morsels.”33 Those husbands who delighted in the memory of their sensual
satisfaction were no more than “scullions of a kitchen, who as St. Paul says,
make a god of their belly.”34
In his concluding remarks St. Francis de Sales resorted to the ancient ex-
ample of that noble beast, the elephant. Drawing upon the writings of certain
fathers of the church, he viewed the elephant’s behavior as the model for
honorable marital activity. “The elephant” he wrote, “although a gross beast,
is yet most decent and most sensible of any other upon earth.”35 Providing “a
specimen of the elephant’s chastity,” de Sales reported that the male elephant
only couples with his mate “but at the end of every three years . . . but so pri-
vately that he is never seen in the act.”36 Francis then proposed that the mod-
est dispositions of the elephant might “serve as lessons to married people.”37
“Yes” to Affection, “No” to Enjoyment

Francis de Sales believed that marriage was holy because it was God who
called men and women to the married state. Even more to this saint’s credit
was his affirmation of the value of affectionate human love. But St. Francis
de Sales could only go so far. He was unable to bridge the chasm that existed
between the expression of chaste affection and the experience of marital plea-
sure. Like most ecclesiastical leaders in the history of the western church, his
acceptance of the holiness of nuptial commerce was basically a conditional
acceptance. Marital relations could prove dangerous: “In like manner, nuptial
commerce, which is so holy, just and commendable in itself and so profitable
to the commonwealth, is nevertheless in certain cases dangerous to those that
exercise it.”38
The development of the church’s attitude toward marital relations had pro-
duced a form of sexual alienation. That alienation had been projected into a
number of New Testament passages. Thus Francis de Sales used the oft-cited
verses in 1 Corinthians 7:29–31 to make a case for the rejection of sexual
pleasure. Citing “they who have wives, be as though they had none” and “Let
those that use the world . . . be as though they used it not,”39 Francis stressed
that making use of something, in this case the use of wives by their husbands,
did not mean enjoying what one uses. De Sales asserted, “It is a great evil
of man, says St. Austin [Augustine], to desire to enjoy the things which he
should only use.”40 Accordingly, people “should enjoy spiritual things, and
only use corporal, of which when the use is turned into enjoyment, our ratio-
nal soul is also changed into a brutish and beastly soul.”41
To his credit, St. Francis de Sales attempted to build a bridge between the
expression of physical affection and living a life of faith. As he did so, he
was hampered by the ancient dualism that the Catholic Church had adopted
from the Stoics and the Platonists. Through the centuries marital intercourse
had been discussed in terms of the two “p-words,” procreation and pleasure.
Intercourse for procreation was acceptable, but intercourse for pleasure was
not. Such a distinction prolonged the sexual schizophrenia that had been pro-
jected into Christian marriage for nearly fifteen centuries. Instead of helping
couples integrate body, mind, and spirit, this conditional acceptance drove a
wedge between faith and feelings. Nevertheless, the bishop of Geneva had
begun to grope his way toward a new vocabulary, a new way of speaking
about marriage in terms of affection, tenderness, and love. In Francis de
Sales’ seventeenth-century work, Introduction to the Devout Life, married
people could find the beginnings of a more positive spirituality of marriage
and marital affection.
NOTES
1989), 399.
3. Jaroslav Pelikan, ed., Luther’s Works, Vol. 1 (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing
House, 1958), 116.
4. Pelikan, Luther’s Works, Vol. 1, 118.
6. Thomas Sanchez, The Holy Sacrament of Matrimony, 9.8, as cited in John T.
Noonan, Contraception (New York: The New American Library, 1965), 390.
7. Sanchez, The Holy Sacrament of Matrimony, 9.8, as cited in Noonan, Contra-
ception, 390.
112 Chapter 12
8. Sanchez, The Holy Sacrament of Matrimony, 9.11, as cited in Noonan, Con-

traception, 390.
9. Sanchez, The Holy Sacrament of Matrimony, 9.11, as cited in Noonan, Con-
traception, 390.
10. Sanchez, The Holy Sacrament of Matrimony, 9.45.33, as cited in Noonan,
Contraception, 390.
11. Sanchez, The Holy Sacrament of Matrimony, 9.45.37, as cited in Noonan,
Contraception, 391.
12. Noonan, Contraception, 383–84.
14. Charles Billuart, The Summa of St. Thomas Accommodated to Contemporary
Academic Customs, “The Goods and Acts of Marriage,” reply to objection 5, as cited
in Noonan, Contraception, 384.
17. Francis de Sales, Introduction to a Devout Life, revised and corrected by Rev.
J. M. Leler, Ph.D. (Totowa, N.J.: The Catholic Book Publishing Company, 1946),
313.
18. de Sales, Introduction to a Devout Life, 313.
25. de Sales, Introduction to a Devout Life, 316–17.
13
Confessing Sins Related to Sexual Activity
THE DISCIPLINE OF MORAL THEOLOGY
The Council of Trent (1545–1563) established a seminary system throughout

the Catholic nations of Europe. In the seminaries candidates for the priest-
hood took courses in philosophy, theology, and administrating parishes. The
candidates also needed to learn how to make judgments about the gravity of
sins committed by those seeking forgiveness in the sacrament of reconcili-
ation (penance). Those preparing to “hear confessions” were taught how to
make a detailed examination of a specific action by inquiring into the inten-
tions of the person as well as the circumstances accompanying the particular
act. By weighing all aspects of the act, the priest-confessor would then make
a judgment regarding the gravity of a person’s sins.
ST. ALPHONSUS LIGUORI: MORAL THEOLOGIAN
Alphonsus Liguori (1696–1787), author of Moral Theology, steered a course

between the rigorist Jansenists on the one hand, and the laxists on the other.
The Jansenists regarded God as a stern, almost tyrannical judge; the laxists
put forward a notion of God who asked very little of his creatures. Like St.
Francis de Sales, Liguori encouraged people to live holy and devout lives.
He was raised to sainthood in 1839 and declared a doctor of the church in
1871.
In 1679 Pope Innocent XI’s Congregation of the Holy Office censured the
opinion that it was not sinful to initiate intercourse “solely for pleasure.”1
Thus, by the late seventeenth century, the acceptable purposes for engaging
113
114 Chapter 13
in marital intimacy still remained procreation, rendering the marital debt, and
the avoidance of possible adultery. But did the Holy Office’s 1679 censure
mean that spouses could seek sexual pleasure as long as they included one of
the acceptable purposes for engaging in marital intercourse?
Liguori saw nothing sinful in seeking sexual pleasure along with other
ends, as long as husband and wife were not principally seeking pleasure.
Even more significantly, he did not require that husband and wife have an
intention to procreate a child whenever they had sexual relations. For reasons
of poverty, for example, a couple would not sin when they engaged in marital
intercourse without the intention to conceive a child. Furthermore, a poverty-
stricken husband and wife could actually hope that a particular marital act
would not produce a child.2
“Love” Not Yet Recognized

Liguori held that a person could “decently” marry to reconcile family mem-
bers or bring peace or preserve the honor of one’s family or for reasons of
health or for “similar things.”3 Could marrying for love be included in the
“similar things”? And if marrying for love was included, would that justify
having sexual relations for the purpose of expressing love for one’s spouse?
Liguori’s answer to both these questions was “No.” Since “love” did not
constitute an intrinsic, or essential or accidental end for marrying, neither
could “love” be regarded as an acceptable motive or purpose for engaging in
A New Issue: “Cooperation with Sin”

In the eighteenth century moral theologians began to discuss whether a spouse
could morally cooperate in a marital act when there would be an attempt to
prevent conception. While Alphonsus Liguori saw no moral evil in spouses
engaging in sexual relations while hoping that they would not conceive a
child, he held that engaging in the marital act while taking steps to prevent
conception was sinful.
In the eighteenth century “coitus interruptus” was a common attempt to
prevent conception. In the act of interrupting coitus, the husband withdrew
his penis and ejaculated outside his wife’s vagina. Moral theologians called
this practice “the refusal to keep the vessel.” Ejaculating “outside the fit
[proper] vessel” [the vagina] constituted the mortal sin of “onanism.” The sin
was named after Onan who, according to Genesis 38:1–11, sinned by spill-
ing his seed on the ground. God struck Onan dead for doing so. According to
churchmen that was God’s punishment for practicing contraception.4
Confessing Sins Related to Sexual Activity 115
Related to the practice of avoiding conception by the use of coitus inter-

ruptus was the issue of “cooperation” in sin. If, in the course of a marital act,
the husband ejaculated outside his wife’s vagina, did she also commit sin?
Liguori’s conclusion was lenient and sympathetic. The woman did not sin if
she had “a just and serious reason” for participating in the marital act.5
Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell

The possibility of “good faith” regarding coitus interruptus was a problem
for priests who heard confessions. Many husbands and wives did not real-
ize that moral theologians had concluded that coitus interruptus was sinful.
Should confessors tell those seeking reconciliation that coitus interruptus was
a grave sin? Liguori reasoned that such couples were “in good faith” and that
priests should not make matters worse by telling their penitents something
that would cause them to suffer.
Ligouri proposed this course of action. If a priest thought that the penitent,
after being informed of the sinfulness of coitus interruptus, still might not
cease performing that act, then the priest was not to disturb the conscience of
the penitent. The confessor should not put his penitent “in bad faith.”6 Liguo-
ri’s advice to priests hearing the confessions of the married might be called
the policy of do-not-ask-and-do-not-tell—unless you think that asking and
telling would spiritually benefit the person who was confessing. Liguori’s
“good faith” solution would stand for a little over a hundred years.
QUESTIONS ABOUT CONFESSIONAL PRACTICE
The “Sacred Penitentiary” was the Vatican bureau that dealt with questions
involving the administration of the sacrament of penance. If a bishop had a
question about the administration of this sacrament in his diocese, he would
submit his query to the Roman Penitentiary and then wait for a reply. Dur-
ing the nineteenth century there were a number of significant inquires made
about the sin of coitus interruptus. In 1816 the vicar of Chambery asked about
a wife’s obligations if she knew from experience that her husband would
practice coitus interruptus.7 The Roman Penitentiary replied: If, by refusing
intercourse to her husband, the woman feared “serious detriment to herself,”
she could engage in marital relations without committing sin even though she
knew her husband would ejaculate outside her vagina.8
In 1822 an anonymous petitioner asked: Could a woman lawfully have
intercourse with her husband who usually acted “in the wicked manner of
Onan,” if by refusal to cooperate she would experience either her husband’s
116 Chapter 13
cruelties or his deserting her for a prostitute? The Penitentiary proposed that
the wife who feared “beating, death, or other serious cruelties” could “offer
herself passively” to her husband.9
In 1842 John Baptist Bouvier (1783–1854), bishop of Le Mans, France,
wanted a clarification regarding the Penitentiary’s decisions of 1816 and
1822. The bishop pointed out that the degree of harm that a wife feared for
not cooperating with her husband was a fear that varied from woman to
woman. “Passing quarrels would be unbearable to a timid woman instructed
in refined conduct and accustomed to civility” but for other women, such as
peasants, “even some blows do not weigh much.”10 The Penitentiary replied
by repeating the answer it gave in 1822.
VEILED REFERENCES TO THE

MARITAL ACT AS AN EXPRESSION OF LOVE
Bishop John Baptist Bouvier authored the Dissertation on the Sixth Com-
mandment of the Decalogue and Supplement to the Treatise on Marriage. In
his book he noted that some of the married laity thought that marital inter-
course was decent and that the marital act “favored mutual love.”11
A similar veiled reference to the relationship between the marital act and
the expression of spousal love appeared in the work of Rev. Thomas Gous-
set (1792–1866). Published in 1853, Gousset’s Moral Theology for the Use
of Priests and Confessors noted that the first obligation of married persons
is related to the principle purpose or end that God has given to marriage:
“That end consists in preserving the marital union, concord, and mutual
love.”12 Gousset then described spousal love as “a tender love, a love pure
and chaste, a love resembling the love of Jesus Christ for his Church.”13
Was Gousset referring to love in the sentimental, non-sexual sense as did
St. Francis de Sales? Or was Gousset referring to love sexually expressed in
the marital act? Since Gousset’s description of love is so brief, it is not clear
what he meant.
In 1845 a development took place that would preoccupy Catholic leader-
ship and moral theologians for the next 150 years. Felix Pouchet reported that
conception in female mammals took place during a specific period of time af-
ter menstruation had begun. As a result of this study some doctors concluded
that there were several days each month during which a woman was infertile
and therefore conception could not take place. Relying on this minimal bit of
information, some couples began to engage in sexual relations only on those
days when the woman might be infertile.
Confessing Sins Related to Sexual Activity 117
Concerned about this new development, Bishop Antoine de Salinis, the

bishop of Amiens, wrote to the Roman Penitentiary. He wanted to know if
these married people should be “disturbed” about having relations on puta-
tive infertile days. In 1853 the Penitentiary answered: “Those about whom
you ask are not to be disturbed provided they do nothing by which concep-
tion is prevented.”14 Twenty years later genuine controversy erupted. Rely-
ing on Pouchet’s theory regarding ovulation, Auguste Lecomte, a Louvain
theologian, concluded that married couples could lawfully choose to have
intercourse during the sterile period if they had “reasonable and proportionate
cause” for limiting the number of offspring.15 Lecomte hoped that the use of
the “sterile period” would solve the problem faced by married couples when
they found themselves having to choose between conceiving more children
and practicing coitus interruptus.
ROME REJECTS LENIENCY
But it seemed to some that Lecomte’s acceptance of seeking intercourse dur-

ing the sterile period was an abandonment of the primary purpose of marital
intercourse. Not long afterward the Catholic Church began to wage war
against all forms of birth regulation. The first battles were related to what
was taking place in the confessional. In 1876 Rev. Maurus Nardi’s Disserta-
tion on Conjugal Onanism attacked Liguori’s lenient approach that allowed
confessors to act as both healers and judges. Nardi wanted confessors to
interrogate married persons about their sexual acts in order to extinguish the
“good faith” of penitents who were practicing coitus interruptus.16
In 1886 the Roman Penitentiary decreed that generally confessors should
not abstain from asking penitents about their sexual practices even if some
people would have their good faith disturbed.17 Thus in 1886 the Penitentiary
rejected the conclusions of Alphonsus Liguori and overturned its tolerant
responses made in 1822 and 1842.
With the Penitentiary’s 1886 rejection of Liguouri’s position, all priest-
confessors found themselves to some degree obligated to discover whether
or not a penitent practiced some form of birth control. Finding out that the
penitent did try to prevent conception, the priest was required to inform that
person that he or she was committing mortal sin and that he or she would not
be forgiven until ceasing to do so. Such a rebuke destroyed any “good faith”
the person might have had. It would not be long before popes, bishops, and
theologians would make it clear that any form of preventing conception was
a grave sin.
118 Chapter 13
NOTES
1. Henricus Denzinger and Adolfus Schonmetzer, S.M., Enchiridion Symbolo-

rum (Barcelona: Herder, 1976), no. 2109, 458.
2. St. Alphonsus Marie de Liguori, Opera Moralia IV, Theologia Morallis (Graz:
Akademische Druck-U. Verlagsanstalt, 1954), Book 6, 927, 109.
3. Liguori, Opera Moralia IV, Book 6, 883, 65.
4. See Genesis 38:1–11. Leverite law required the nearest relative of a childless
widow to father a child in the name of the departed relative so that his family line
would continue. Onan was struck dead for refusing to conceive a child with his broth-
er’s widow. Moralists focused not on the violation of the Leverite law (Deuteronomy
25:5) that brought God’s wrath upon Onan but upon the spilling of his seed outside
“the fit vessel.” As a result moralists misinterpreted Genesis 38 and so regarded
Onan’s act as either a sin of contraception or as a sin of masturbation.
5. Liguori, Opera Moralia IV, Book 6, 947, 128.
6. Liguori, Opera Moralia IV, Book 1, numbers 4 and 5, 4; number 36, 17–18.
1965), 474.
8. Hartmann Batzill, ed., Decisiones Sanctae Sedis de Usu et Abusu Matrimonii,
second ed. (Rome, 1944), 11–12, cited in Noonan, Contraception, 475.
9. Batzill, Decisiones Sanctae Sedis de Usu et Abusu Matrimonii, cited in
Noonan, Contraception, 474–75.
10. John Baptist Bouvier, Dissertation in Sextum Decalogi Praeceptum et Supple-
mentum ad Tractatum de Matrimonio, eighteenth ed. (Paris: Notre Dame, n.d.),
2.1.3.4, cited in Noonan, Contraception, 476.
11. Bouvier, Dissertation in Sextum Decalogi Praeceptum, cited in Noonan, Con-
traception, 477.
12. Thomas Gousset, Théologie morale à l’usage des curés au des confesseurs
(Paris: Chez Jaques Le Coffre et Cie Libraries, 1853), Tome 2, 593.
13. Gousset, Théologie morale à l’usage des curés au des confesseurs, 593.
14. Batzill, Decisiones Sanctae Sedis de Usu et Abusu Matrimonii, 130, cited in
Noonan, Contraception, 522.
15. Noonan, Contraception, 522–24,
16. Maurus Nardi, Dissertatio de onanismo conjugali (Toulouse, 1876), 84, quoted
in Nouvelle Revue Theologique 8 (1876), 650, cited in Noonan, Contraception, 494.
17. Batzill, Decisiones Sanctae Sedis, 27–29, as cited in Noonan, Contraception,
496.
14
Pope, Bishops, Theologians, and
Canon Law Stress Procreation as the
Primary Purpose of Marriage
POPE LEO XIII
In 1880 Pope Leo XIII (1878–1903) promulgated Arcanum Divinae Sapi-

entiae (The Design of Divine Wisdom), the first papal encyclical devoted
entirely to marriage. Repeating some of the ideas of the church fathers, the
pope did not present a pretty picture. Marriage had been corrupted after cre-
ation had been completed and thus the marriages of Gentiles were exposed
“to floods of error and . . . the most shameful lusts.”1 Hebrew husbands were
described as running “headlong with impunity into lust, unbridled and unre-
strained” while their wives were “sunk so low as to be reckoned only as a
means for the gratification of passion, or for the production of offspring.”2
After noting that the primary purpose of marital intercourse was to produce
children, the pope proposed that spouses shared an obligation “to have such
feelings for one another as to cherish always very great mutual love.”3 “Love”
was also cited as one of the ways in which the lives of husbands and wives
“might be made better and happier.”4 Such “great mutual love” developed “in
many ways: by their lightening each other’s burdens through mutual help; by
constant and faithful love; by having all their possessions in common; and by
the heavenly grace that flows from the Sacrament.”5 Nothing was said about
love expressed through the marital act.
BELGIAN, GERMAN, AND FRENCH BISHOPS SPEAK OUT
By the early years of the twentieth century the Catholic Church had developed
a standard confessional practice regarding the sin of contraception. Catholics
119
120 Chapter 14
who chose to have intercourse while taking steps to avoid the primary purpose
of marital intercourse were refused absolution (forgiveness) in the sacrament
of reconciliation. Considered “habitual sinners,” those who “practiced birth
control” were barred from the reception of the sacrament of the Eucharist
(Holy Communion).
Addressing their priests in 1909, the Belgian bishops condemned the “most
evil sin of Onan” in every form of birth control.6 The bishops then instructed
priests to teach the laity to avoid a materialistic understanding of life. Once
again the out-of-context citation from Paul’s letter was to be brought to the at-
tention of the faithful. Priests were to remind husbands that “those who have
wives should use them as if they had them not” (1 Cor. 7:29–30).7
Some married couples attempted to justify limiting their offspring on the
grounds that they would have more children than they could feed.8 Citing the
words of Jesus that we should not be anxious about what we would eat or
how we would be clothed (Matt. 6:31), the Belgian bishops asked husbands
and wives to put their faith in divine Providence.9
It could be the case that some husbands would fear that further pregnan-
cies would endanger the health of their wives.10 In such cases, priests were
instructed to point out the advantages of modern medical care. However, if
another pregnancy was truly a serious danger to the wife’s health or life, the
husband and wife, by mutual consent, should courageously abstain from the
marital act.11
In their 1913 pastoral letter the German bishops declared: “It is serious sin
to will to prevent the increase of the number of children, so that marriage is
abused for pleasure alone and its principal purpose knowingly and willingly
frustrated.”12
The French bishops joined the crusade against birth control in May of
1919. Reminding the married that “the principal end of marriage is the pro-
creation of children,” the bishops of France declared: “It is to sin seriously
against nature and against the will of God to frustrate marriage of its end by
an egotistic or sensual calculation.”13 All practices that led to the restriction
of births were seen “as disastrous as they are criminal.”14
AMERICAN BISHOPS SPEAK OUT
In September 1919, the American bishops met in Washington, D.C., and pro-
duced their first joint pastoral letter since 1884. Referring to the Catechism
of the Council of Trent, the bishops stated that procreation was the first and
most serious obligation of marriage.15 Using the traditional misinterpretation
of the biblical account of Onan’s sin, the bishops condemned all forms of
birth regulation because “the selfishness which leads to race suicide . . . is, in
God’s sight, a ‘detestable thing.’”16
According to the American bishops, the increase of children brought about
such good effects as a “fresh stimulus given to thrift” brought about by the virtu-
ous necessity of stretching the family income as well as the “industrious effort”
of mother and father who had to work harder.17 True, more children necessitated
making more “sacrifices,” but sacrifices were “sources of blessing.”18
MARRIAGE AND SEXUAL UNION

IN THE 1917 CODE OF CANON LAW
For centuries canon lawyers had been refining the concept of marriage to
its most basic form by asking the question, “What makes the marriage re-
lationship different from every other kind of human relationship?” In 1917
Cardinal Pietro Gasparri, the principal designer of the first universal Code of
Canon Law, had reduced the idea of marriage to what was considered its bar-
est essence: “Marital consent is an act of the will whereby each party grants
and accepts a permanent and exclusive right over the body regarding its acts
which are of themselves apt for the generation of offspring.”19
Thus marriage was understood as a lawful contract in which the two par-
ties handed over to each other the right to use one another’s genital organs
for acts suitable for the generation of children. If two persons were to use the
vocabulary of the church’s canonical definition in their wedding vows, the
bride and groom might say to each other, “I understand our marrying as an
act in which I hand over to you the right to use my body for acts that are apt
for generating children. I want to do this in a contractual context before these
gathered witnesses.”
Canon 1013 had combined the views of Augustine and Aquinas: “The
primary end of marriage is the procreation and nurture of children; its second-
ary end is mutual help and the remedying of concupiscence.”20 Here the term
“concupiscence” might refer to all the ways that spousal love, desire, and
affection were physically expressed and received. A St. Valentine’s Day card
framed in the language of canon law might bear the caption, “Won’t You Be
My Remedy for Concupiscence?”
A NEW QUESTION IS RAISED
Then, in the decade following the promulgation of the 1917 Code of Canon
Law, “personalism” began to emerge. Instead of viewing the marital act in
122 Chapter 14
terms of what it meant for the human species, or what it meant for the state
of the church or both, this new philosophical perspective raised a question
that had never really been asked before: What did sexual intimacy mean to
the husband and wife engaging in the act of sexual intercourse? Given the
history of Catholicism’s teaching on marital relations, it was a question that
had revolutionary implications. In the 1920s and 1930s two theologians in
particular, one a married layman (Dietrich von Hildebrand) and the other a
Polish priest (Rev. Herbert Doms), pointedly raised the question of the mean-
ing of the marital act.
NOTES
1. Pope Leo XIII, Arcanum Divinae Sapientiae, in Papal Teachings: Matrimony,

trans. Michael J. Byrnes (Boston: The Daughters of St. Paul, 1963), 136.
136–37.
140.
152.
152.
6. “Instruction des Evêques de Belgique sur l’onanisme,” the Bishops of Belin in
Nouvelle-Revue Theologique 41 (1909), 617.
Nouvelle-Revue Theologique, 618.
12. See Joseph Laurentius, S.J., “Das Bischofswort zum Schutze der Familie,” in
Theologisch Praktische Quartalschrift 67 (1914), 517–28, cited in John T. Noonan,
Contraception (New York: The New American Library, 1965), 501.
13. Documentation Catholique 1 (1919), 578–79, cited in Noonan, Contraception,
501.
14. Documentation Catholique, 578–79, cited in Noonan, Contraception, 501.
15. National Council of Catholic Bishops, The National Pastorals of the Ameri-
can Hierarchy, 1792–1919 (Washington, D.C.: National Catholic Welfare Council,
1923), 312.
16. National Council of Catholic Bishops, The National Pastorals of the American
Hierarchy, 1792–1919, 313.
Hierarchy, 1792–1919, 313.
Hierarchy, 1792–1919, 313.
19. Codex Iuris Cononici (1917), 1081.2
20. Codex Iuris Cononici, 1013.
15
A New Vision:
Love Related to Marital Intercourse
MARITAL INTERCOURSE: AN EXPRESSION OF LOVE?
For the first thirteen centuries of the church’s history the families of the bride
and groom arranged the majority of marriages. With the development of com-
merce and the emergence of a middle class in Europe, certain social aspects
of marriage began to change. As a result, more people began to marry on the
basis of friendship and mutual attraction. The Catechism of the Council of
Trent (1566) had spoken approvingly of the way people married in order to
give each other “mutual aid.”1
In 1850 Rev. Ferdinand Probst, a German moral theologian, made a connec-
tion between spirituality and marital sexuality. He proposed that the marital
union of husband and wife was a reality that ought to “be re-clothed in spiri-
tual raiment.”2 That spiritual re-clothing could be achieved “through the moral
elevation of sexual love and its resultant transformation into marital love.”3
Probst’s thought was an amazing reversal. Since the second century
churchmen had been driving a wedge between physical sex and spiritual
love. Probst was proposing that the church move in the opposite direction
by joining sexual love with spiritual love. If that was done, then the union of
partners in marriage might find “its highest expression in the marriage act.”4
But Probst’s unusual perspective on marital intercourse was ignored.
Forty years later, in the 1890s, Rev. Alois De Smet also perceived a rela-
tionship between marital intercourse and spousal love. De Smet proposed that
“the marriage act itself, by which the partners are made one flesh, cultivates
and nourishes this love.”5 At the beginning of the twentieth century Rev.
Anton Koch, a German moral theologian, suggested that marital intercourse
might both symbolize and physically express the undivided community of life
125
126 Chapter 15
that constitutes marriage. According to Koch, there was a significant correla-

tion between marital intercourse and marriage as shared community of life.6
DIETRICH VON HILDEBRAND
Teaching philosophy at the University of Munich, Dietrich von Hildebrand

(1889–1977) became “the first married lay person to make a substantial con-
tribution to Catholic doctrine on marriage.”7 Having studied the phenomenol-
ogy of Max Scheler and Edmund Husserl, von Hildebrand developed what
has been called “a personalist approach” to Christian marriage. For almost
the whole of the church’s history theologians and churchmen thought of
marital intercourse in terms of what it meant for the human species, or what
it meant for the state, or what it meant for the church. In the early 1920s von
Hildebrand began to explore what meaning marital intercourse might have
for husband and wife.
In 1925 Dietrich von Hildebrand gave a series of lectures on love and mar-
riage for the Federation of Catholic Students’ Unions at Innsbruck, Germany.
He proposed that husband and wife could express their love for each other
through marital intercourse. Two years later he put his ideas in a small book
dealing with the virtue of chastity (English title: In Defense of Purity). Then,
in another book-length essay, Marriage: The Mystery of Faithful Love, Di-
etrich took note of the fact that “moral theologians are emphasizing the role
of love in marriage, a role which was previously underestimated by some.”8
Incorporating some of the ideas expressed earlier by Ferdinand Probst, Alois
De Smet, and Anton Koch, von Hildebrand developed the thought that mari-
tal intercourse could be understood as an expression of spousal love.
Besides Procreation
While the Augustinian and Thomistic traditions had focused on the goods
or purposes of marriage, Dietrich concluded that “it is quite impossible to
regard the union of love and sex in marriage as due exclusively to its aim
of propagation.”9 Rather, “the sexual gift of one person to another signifies
an incomparably close union with that other and a self-surrender to him or
her. The sexual union is thus the organic expression of wedded love, which
intends precisely this mutual gift of self.”10 In marriage the two partners find
themselves in the “presence of an entirely novel and most profound relation-
ship” in which “the act of wedded communion” possesses “the significance
of a unique union of love.”11
A New Vision 127
Dietrich’s approach to the meaning of marriage was based on the Pauline

image of the love of Christ for his church: “The greatness and sublimity of
marriage . . . are revealed to us at one stroke in this exhortation of St. Paul
wherein he compares married love to the love of Christ, the Word made
Flesh, for His Holy Church.”12
Augustine, having overlooked the unitive power of sexuality, had sug-
gested that in Paradise a male partner might have been a more suitable help-
mate for Adam. But von Hildebrand perceived the core truth in the Genesis
story. “Man and woman are spiritually oriented toward each other,” he wrote,
because “they are created for each other.”13 Thus the sexual differentiation
of male and female amounted to a God-given mission to man and woman:
“Because of their complementary difference, a much closer communion and
more ultimate love is possible between them than between persons of the
same sex.”14 The physical complementarily of the bodies of husband and wife
provided them with an ability to express deep love in a sexual way.
Since the second century most of the ecclesiastical interpreters of the New
Testament had spiritualized the way husband and wife manifested the love
of Christ for his church. Ignoring the act of marital intercourse, churchmen
stressed that the marriage union could not be dissolved because the love of
Jesus for his church was indissoluble. When von Hildebrand pointed out that
the letter to the Ephesians asserted that the physical act of marital intercourse
symbolized the love of Christ for his church, something happened. All the
Christian Stoics, Christian Platonists, Christian Manicheans, Christian Ca-
thars, Christian Jansenists, and Christian legalists, with their anti-body, “pu-
ritanical horror of all things sexual,”15 stood exposed as bogus interpreters of
Ephesians.
Von Hildebrand asserted that sexual experience was not something that
belonged to a person’s “lower” or “animal” nature: “[W]e cannot but see that
it differs completely from all other instincts or appetites.”16 Sexual experience
“has a kind of depth which neither thirst nor hunger nor the need to sleep nor
any desire for other bodily pleasure possesses.”17 Because marital experience
has this quality of depth, the effect of this kind of experience “transcends the
physical sphere and . . . involves the soul deeply in its passion.”18
The Relationship between Marital Intercourse and Love

The desire for marital intercourse was not merely a matter of lust and selfish-
ness. Von Hildebrand saw a profound connection between marital sex and
the act of other-oriented, self-giving. He perceived that sex is “a voice from
the depths, the utterance of something central and of the utmost significance.
128 Chapter 15
In and with sex, man, in a special sense, gives himself.”19 (Of course, von
Hildebrand was referring to spouses of both sexes.)
Von Hildebrand also perceived the long overlooked relation between sex
and the spiritual life. Marital intercourse, because of its intimacy and deep
centrality, “is capable of a particular relationship with love, the most spiritual
and the deepest of all experiences.”20 He pointed out that the marital act “has
not only a function, the generation of children; it also possesses a significance
for [the person] as a human being—namely, to be the expression and fulfill-
ment of wedded love and community of life.”21
When von Hildebrand observed that “we should rather speak of the mean-
ing of sex than its function,”22 he was not denying the basic connection be-
tween marital relations and procreation. But he wanted his readers to perceive
that marital intercourse is an act that also had a profound personal meaning
for husband and wife. The reduction of sexual union to its function of procre-
ation amounted to taking a strictly biological approach, or, as von Hildebrand
expressed it, “a thoroughly materialistic view.”23
Further commenting on the spiritual meaning of marital intercourse,
von Hildebrand stated: “And just because sex is so uniquely intimate and
represents the secret of the person concerned, the sexual gift of one person
to another signifies an incomparably close union with that other and a self-
surrender to him or her.”24 Stating that “the sexual union is thus the organic
expression of wedded love, which intends precisely this mutual gift of self,”25
von Hildebrand moved well beyond the Catholic Church’s long-term ten-
dency to associate selfishness and lust with marital intercourse.
Transcending the idea of sexual utility, von Hildebrand stated that the end
or purpose of procreating children “is not the only meaning of the physical
act; subjectively speaking it is not even its primary meaning.”26 The meaning
of marital intercourse “is primarily the realization of the sublime communion
of love which, according to the words of our Savior, ‘Two shall be one in one
flesh.’”27 Thus, in distinguishing between the primary end of marriage (pro-
creation) and the primary meaning of marital intercourse (the expression of
conjugal love), von Hildebrand truly opened the way to recognizing the value
of marital intercourse for the married couple. When he wrote, “[i]n virtue of
its quality, physical sex is the expression of wedded love,”28 he included the
full acceptance of all the feelings, passions, pleasures, and desires that are
involved in sexual loving.
At the same time, von Hildebrand never disconnected the natural link be-
tween marital intercourse and procreation: “That a new human being should
issue from it is certainly part of the solemn grandeur of this supremely
intimate union.”29 In order to preserve the attitude of reverence toward the
mystery of marital union, von Hildebrand stated that the “general connection
A New Vision 129
between procreation and love must always be maintained even subjectively,

at least as a general possibility of this act.”30
According to von Hildebrand, conjugal love is meant to be a total love that
embraces every dimension of married life—the physical, the psychological,
and the spiritual. Thus, “conjugal love, like every authentic love, implies a
genuine intention to make the beloved happy.”31 To love one’s spouse is to
will not only the spouse’s earthly good, but also the spouse’s eternal good.
In considering this spiritual aspect of conjugal love, von Hildebrand believed
that the spouse’s intention to seek the happiness of the beloved “is elevated
to a fervent desire for the eternal welfare of the beloved.”32 In sum, spousal
love “embraces the beloved not only within the limits of this life and for this
life, but also for eternity.”33
SUMMARY
Dietrich von Hildebrand had moved away from the relentless promotion of
the utility of marital intercourse for procreation and for alleviating concupis-
cence. He did so by declaring that sexual love belonged to “the specifically
significant sphere” of the fulfillment of married love.34 He pointed out that
there is a God-intended relationship between marital sex, wedded love, and
the scriptural teaching about the union of two persons in one flesh. Thus “the
act of wedded union is a unique expression of wedded love and its specific
fulfillment, because in it both partners, according to the word of our Lord and
Savior, Jesus Christ, become one flesh.”35
NOTES
1. The Catechism of the Council of Trent, trans. Very Rev. J. Donovan, D.D. (Dub-
lin: James Duffy & Co., Ltd., 1829), Question 13, 296.
2. Ferdinand Probst, Katholische Moral Theologie, 1850, Tome II, 180, cited in
Dr. Herbert Doms, The Meaning of Marriage (New York: Sheed & Ward, 1939),
xix.
3. Probst, Katholische Moral Theologie, cited in Doms, The Meaning of Marriage,
xix.
4. Probst, Katholische Moral Theologie, cited in Doms, The Meaning of Marriage,
xix.
5. Alois De Smet, Les Fiancailles et le Marriage, 2.1.3.1.4, cited in John T.
Noonan, Contraception (New York: The New American Library, 1965), 586.
6. Anton Koch, Lehrbuch de Moral Theologie, 1905, 602, cited in Doms, The
Meaning of Marriage, xx.
130 Chapter 15

8. Dietrich von Hildebrand, Marriage: The Mystery of Faithful Love (Manches-
ter: Sophia Institute Press, 1984), xxiv.
9. Dietrich von Hildebrand, In Defense of Purity, translated from the 1927 Rein-
heit und Jungfraulchkeit (London: Sheed & Ward, 1945), 16.
10. von Hildebrand, In Defense of Purity, 16.
13. Dietrich von Hildebrand, Man and Woman: Love & the Meaning of Intimacy
(Manchester: Sophia Institute Press, 1966, 1992), 37.
14. von Hildebrand, Man and Woman, 37.
22. von Hildebrand, In Defense of Purity, 20–21.
26. von Hildebrand, Marriage: The Mystery of Faithful Love, 20.
29. von Hildebrand, Marriage: The Mystery of Faithful Love, 21–22.
16
The Teaching of Pope Pius XI:
Procreation or Abstinence
ANGLICAN BISHOPS DECLARE THAT

MARITAL SEX EXPRESSES SPOUSAL LOVE
On August 14, 1930, with 193 favoring and 67 opposing, the leaders of the
Anglican Church passed seven resolutions dealing with “marriage and sex.”
The bishops stated: “The Conference emphasizes the truth that the sexual
instinct is a holy thing implanted by God in human nature. It acknowledges
that intercourse between husband and wife as the consummation of marriage
has a value of its own within that sacrament, and that thereby married love is
enhanced and its character strengthened.”1 Thus the bishops of the Church of
England did something that no group of bishops had done in the long history
of the western church. They asserted that there was a God-given, positive
relationship between marital intercourse and spousal love.
The Anglican teaching on marital sexuality chose to ignore Augustine’s
theory that the sexual instinct was a matter of concupiscence resulting from
the sin of Adam and Eve. Furthermore, since the Anglican pastors acknowl-
edged that marital intercourse has a “value of its own,” it followed that mar-
ried people did not need a justifying “excuse” to engage in the marital act. On
the one hand, the Anglican bishops had set aside nearly seventeen centuries
worth of theological speculation about the motives that justified initiating
marital intercourse. On the other hand, the bishops reasserted the traditional
teaching they had in common with the Roman Catholic Church: “The primary
purpose for which marriage exists is the procreation of children.”2
The fifteenth resolution was in agreement with the traditional teaching in
this respect: “Where there is a clearly felt moral obligation to limit or to avoid
parenthood, the primary and obvious method is complete abstinence from
131
132 Chapter 16
intercourse (as far as may be necessary) in a life of discipline and self-control

lived in the power of the Holy Spirit.”3 But that same fifteenth resolution
also stated that, if a couple faced “a clearly felt moral obligation to limit or
avoid parenthood” and the couple had “a morally sound reason for avoiding
complete abstinence, the conference agrees that other methods may be used.”4
Thus the Anglican Church, the Christian community closest to the Catholic
Church in doctrine and organization, had taken a position different from any
previous ecclesial teaching: Married couples might engage in marital inter-
course while taking specific measures to prevent conception. The decision to
do so was a matter of conscience for which married couples themselves were
responsible.
On October 4, 1930, Cardinal Francis Bourne, the Catholic archbishop of
Westminster, denounced the decision made by the conference of the Angli-
can bishops. He declared that they “had forfeited any claim to be ‘authorized
organs of Christian morality.’”5
Arthur Vermeersch, the moral theologian who played a large role in writ-
ing the stringent statement on marriage made by the Belgian bishops in 1909,
was greatly disturbed by the way the Anglican bishops had appropriated the
teaching of Alphonsus Liguori on conscience. Vermeersch and other theolo-
gians thought that only a “strong papal action” could put an end to the assault
on Catholic doctrine regarding the purposes of sexual relations in marriage.6
THE STRONG PAPAL ACTION: CASTI CONNUBII
On December 31, 1930, Pope Pius XI (1922–1939) promulgated Casti Con-

nubii (On Chaste Marriage). The pope, with the ghost writing of Arthur
Vermeersch, provided the Catholic Church with “one of the great papal
documents of all time.”7 This encyclical “defined not only the nature of Mat-
rimony but also the moral duties flowing therefrom.”8
As he gazed out upon the world from “the watchtower” of the Vatican,
Pope Pius XI observed that certain “pernicious errors and degraded morals”
had spread “even among the faithful.”9 The pope wanted to remind everyone
that both the Bible and the Council of Trent had declared that matrimony was
created not by human beings but by God. Thus there was little scope for hu-
man decision-making when it came to contractual marriage: “the only func-
tion of . . . human freedom is to decide that each of the consenting parties in
fact wishes to enter the state of matrimony.”10 Therefore, having consented to
marry, the spouses were subject to the way God instituted marriage with its
particular “ends, laws and blessings.”11
The Teaching of Pope Pius XI 133
Procreation or Abstinence: The Married Couple’s Only Choice

Referring to St. Augustine as the great Christian authority on marriage, Pope
Pius XI reminded his readers of the three goods of marriage: “These . . . are
the blessings which make matrimony itself a blessing: OFFSPRING, FIDEL-
ITY, SACRAMENT.”12 These traditional goods provide “the law of marriage,
which gives luster to the fruitfulness of nature and sets a curb upon shameful
incontinence.”13 The pope next referred to the summary found in the 1917
Code of Canon Law: “The primary end of matrimony is the procreation and
education of offspring.”14
In sum, Casti Connubii simply repeated what church leaders and theolo-
gians had asserted since the third century—namely, that the purpose of mari-
tal intercourse was to produce a child. If, at any particular time, husband and
wife did not want to conceive a child, they could avoid conception in only
one way—namely, “by means of a virtuous continence.”15
The pope noted that some couples were pleading “that they can neither
observe continence, nor, for personal reasons or for reasons affecting the
mother, or on account of economic difficulties, can they consent to have chil-
dren.”16 Since Pope Pius XI saw the use of birth control devices as a “criminal
abuse,”17 he rejected all the reasons offered for engaging in marital acts while
trying to avoid conception.
Repeating the traditional argument taken from Stoic philosophy, the pope
wrote: “The conjugal act is of its very nature designed for the procreation of
offspring; and therefore those who in performing it deliberately deprive it of
its natural power and efficacy, act against nature and do something which
is shameful and intrinsically immoral.”18 Thus Pope Pius XI unknowingly
painted the church’s teaching authority into a corner. From this point on,
Catholic leadership could not escape from that corner without the backtrack-
ing embarrassment that future popes would find unacceptable.
Chastising the Anglican Bishops

Referring to the Onan incident in the book of Genesis, the pope repeated his
condemnation of contraception: “The Divine Majesty detests this unspeakable
crime with the deepest hatred and has sometimes punished it with death.”19
Again citing Augustine, the bishop of Rome wrote: “Sexual intercourse even
with a lawful wife is unlawful and shameful if the conception of offspring is
prevented. This is what Onan, the son of Judah, did, and on that account God
put him to death.”20
In commenting on this encyclical’s use of scripture, John Noonan stated
that “as a distillation of past doctrinal statements” on the Catholic Church’s
134 Chapter 16
teaching on marital sexuality, Casti Connubii “was a masterpiece” and that it

“had immense doctrinal authority as a solemn declaration by the Pope.” How-
ever, this masterpiece had a significant flaw: The encyclical’s writers “were
indifferent to the historical contexts from which their citations came.”21
With his reference to the traditional interpretation of the story of Onan in
place, the pope scolded the Anglican Church as “openly departing from the
Christian teaching which has been handed down uninterruptedly from the
beginning.”22 Against the permissive Anglican bishops “the Catholic Church”
had to raise “her voice in sign of her divine mission to keep the chastity of the
marriage contract unsullied by this ugly stain.”23
An Ambiguous Development Regarding Married Love

Pope Pius XI’s encyclical also made a new contribution to the church’s
theology of marriage. The pope declared that “marital love” held “a sort of
primacy of honor” in Christian marriage.24 Then, speaking of the love that is
specific to marriage, the pope stated that “[c]onjugal fidelity requires husband
and wife to be united by a special kind of love.”25 Ironically, at the very mo-
ment the pope was saying something positive about the sexual dimension of
marital love, he resuscitated the old bromide that warned against committing
adultery by loving one’s spouse too ardently. Husband and wife “must love
each other not as adulterers love, but as Christ loved the Church.”26
The warning against passionate sexual loving had indeed made a long
journey. It was developed by the Greek Stoics, promoted by early fathers of
the church, and included in the teaching of The Catechism of the Council of
Trent (1566). Now the admonition had made its way into a papal encyclical
on marriage. The warning against loving “as adulterers love” implied that
ardor, passion, and sexual pleasure were alien to authentic marital love. And
so the pope conformed to the traditional pattern of depreciating marital love
by spiritualizing it: “This is the rule prescribed by the Apostle when he says,
‘Husbands, Love your wives as Christ also loved the Church.’ Now Christ
certainly loved the Church with a boundless charity, and not for His own per-
sonal advantage but solely for the good of His Bride.”27 Did this imply that
spouses who wanted to enjoy their marital acts were not loving each other
in a Christ-like way because they were selfishly seeking their “own personal
advantage”?
According to various commentators, the high point of this encyclical is
the papal declaration that spouses should perfect each other’s “interior life.”
Spousal love “is not confined to mutual help; it must have as its higher and
indeed its chief objective that of shaping and perfecting the interior life of
husband and wife.”28 There is an ambiguity in these words. When taking
into account the whole papal letter, the spiritual dimension of marital love
seems to be placed in a relationship of opposition to the bodily expression of
that same love. When the pope speaks of charity, it is not charity “founded
on a mere carnal and transitory desire . . . it is a deep-seated devotion of the
heart.”29 One is left with the thought that perfecting the interior life of one’s
partner is good but the enjoyment of “carnal and transitory desire” is not.
Part Three: “Return to the Divine Idea of Matrimony”

In part three the pope warned that God might well “punish men for their pride
and their audacity” if they dared to tamper with the divine idea of marriage.30
Relying on Augustine’s skewed understanding of the dynamics of human
sexuality, Pius XI singled out “the violence of rebellious concupiscence” as
the chief obstacle to carrying out God’s plan for marriage.31 Such rebellion of
the flesh can only be subdued by obeying the church’s leaders who know “the
divine laws in marriage and in married life.”32 For this reason married persons
must pay special attention to such laws lest they, by reason of their human
nature, fall “prey to carnal passion” that so readily deceives and corrupts.33
Married persons must be ready to sacrifice their sexual desires in order to
refrain from marital intercourse: “God’s law sometimes requires of married
persons difficult and enduring sacrifices, sacrifices which, as experience
shows, the weak man is apt to invoke as so many excuses for not keeping
with the divine law.”34
The pope also warned married couples to keep “as far as possible aloof
from all idolatry of the flesh and from the degraded slavery of the pas-
sions.”35 Dismissing the “exaggerated physiological education” advocated
by “the so-called reformers of our day,”36 the pope apparently rejected the
legitimacy of limiting marital intercourse to the sterile period (the rhythm
method) in order to avoid pregnancy. Pope Pius XI accused the “so-called
reformers” of teaching the “art of skillful sinning” instead of “the virtue of
chastely living.”37
After husband and wife had given birth to the maximum number of chil-
dren they could rear, the pope hinted that they should cease having marital re-
lations: “Whatever the theories sustained and propagated by certain persons,
husband and wife must . . . use their matrimonial rights always in a Christian
and sacred way, especially in the early days of wedlock, so that should cir-
cumstances subsequently require them to observe continence, their habit of
self-restraint will help them more easily to do so.”38 The gist of this papal
teaching relegated sexual feelings to the basement of the house of married
living. Since the desire for sexual intimacy was traditionally regarded as lust,
such desire had to be repressed in order to develop restraint and attention to
136 Chapter 16
the interior life of one’s partner and oneself. In his encyclical Pope Pius XI
made no attempt “to develop the relation between coitus and the perfection
of the other spouse and the communion of their lives.”39
CASTI CONNUBII’S REVOLUTIONARY ASSERTION
In spite of its less than positive attitude toward marital intimacy, it was said
that this pope’s “humane interpretation of marriage” reached “its farthest
advance in all the long centuries of papal declaration.”40 One reason for such
praise is the pope’s advancement of a new thesis: “The same charity must
rule and regulate all the other rights and duties of husband and wife; and so in
the prescription of the Apostle: ‘Let the husband render the debt to the wife,
and the wife also in like manner to the husband,’ we must see a rule of charity
as well as a law of justice” [emphasis added].41
At long last a pope had spoken of marital intercourse as an activity relat-
ing to “charity,” i.e., love. This was something new because, since the early
centuries, popes, bishops, and theologians had viewed St. Paul’s words about
“rendering the debt” (1 Cor. 7:3) as a concession to concupiscence. Marital
intercourse was seen as a duty that a husband owed to his wife and a wife
owed to her husband. In 1930, for the first time, an authoritative church docu-
ment stated that “charity” (love) ought to regulate the various ways husband
and wife related to each other, sexual intercourse included.
In the first third of the twentieth century the Catholic Church was at a
crossroads. On the one hand, the traditional view perceived the sexual dy-
namic as one of the lamentable effects brought about by the sin of Adam
and Eve. On the other hand, the acknowledgment of the sexual dimension
of marriage in connection with the love of Christ for his church raised the
significance of marital intercourse to a new level of meaning. Up to this point
in the Catholic Church’s history, theologians and hierarchy had never really
explored the implications contained in the image of the loving union that ex-
ists between Christ and his church.42
NOTES
1. The Lambeth Conferences (1867–1948) (London: The Society for Promoting

Christian Knowledge, 1948), The Lambeth Conference, Resolution 9, 164.
2. The Lambeth Conferences, 164.
3. The Lambeth Conferences, Resolution 15, 166.
4. The Lambeth Conferences, 166.
5. Arthur Vermeersch, “La Conférence de Lambeth et la morale du marriage,” in

Nouvelle Revue Theologique 57 (1930), 850, cited in John T. Noonan, Contraception
(New York: The New American Library, 1965), 504.
7. Pope Pius XI, On Chaste Marriage, selected and arranged by the Benedictine
Monks of Solesmes, in Michael J. Byrnes, trans., Matrimony (Boston: The Daughters
of St. Paul, 1963), 10.
8. Pope Pius XI, On Chaste Marriage, in Byrnes, Matrimony, 10.
12. Pope Pius XI, On Chaste Marriage, in Byrnes, Matrimony, 224, citing St.
Augustine’s The Good of Marriage, 24, note 32, and Augustine’s The Literal Mean-
ing of Genesis, 1, 9, c. 7, n. 12.
14. Pope Pius XI, On Chaste Marriage, in Byrnes, Matrimony, 228, citing The
Literal Meaning of Genesis, 1.9, c.7, n. 12, and The Code of Canon Law, Canon
1013, #1.
19. Pope Pius XI, On Chaste Marriage, in Byrnes, Matrimony, 247–48.
20. Pope Pius XI, On Chaste Marriage, in Byrnes, Matrimony, 248. See St. Au-
gustine, On Adulterous Marriage, Book I, 2, note 12.
27. Pope Pius XI, On Chaste Marriage, in Byrnes, Matrimony, 230–31; see also
The Catechism of the Council of Trent, Book 2, chapter 8, question 24.
30. Pope Pius XI, On Chaste Marriage, in Byrnes, Matrimony, 271–72.
138 Chapter 16
39. Noonan, Contraception, 588

40. Theodore Mackin, S.J., The Marital Sacrament (New York: Paulist Press,
1989), 526.
17
A Rejected Perspective:
Bodily Union as the “Direct Purpose”
of Marital Intercourse
“TWO-IN-ONESHIP”
Herbert Doms (1890–1966) was a Catholic priest teaching theology at the

University of Breslau in Poland. Using Pope Pius XI’s encyclical, Casti Con-
nubii, as a starting point, Doms set out to explore “the special character of
married love.”1 His book, The Meaning and End of Marriage, was published
in Germany in 1935.
Interpreting the pope’s encyclical on marriage as an encouragement to de-
velop a theology that enhanced the dignity of marital relations, Herbert Doms
proposed that spouses might achieve holiness through their acts of sexual
intercourse. With the creation story of Adam and Eve as his foundation,
Doms asserted that God created man and woman with a desire to love each
other sexually. Thus, the Polish priest rejected St. Augustine’s pessimistic
views on the source of sexual desire (concupiscence) being found in Adam
and Eve’s sin.
Doms noted that there is no rutting period in human beings and that sexual
intercourse can take place even during a woman’s pregnancy. So he concluded
that “sexual intercourse must have some other purpose besides what is called
its primary purpose—the child.”2 It seemed that the desire of a man and a
woman for sexual union with one another was even stronger than parental
love.3 That gave Doms his concept of “two-in-oneship,” a phrase he took from
the biblical assertion that “the two of them become one body” (Gen. 2:24).
The sexual act that makes the two-in-oneship union possible is both a
physical and a spiritual action. This is so because sexual intimacy depends
“directly . . . on the spiritual life, on mind and will.”4 Thus “the sexual act
originates in the depths of the spirit because it is freely willed and involves
139
140 Chapter 17
the giving of the whole personality to someone else.”5 This notion of mutual
self-giving in marital intercourse was a foundational idea in Dietrich von
Hildebrand’s “personalist” perspective on marriage. In the years to come
another Polish priest would draw upon the notion of mutual self-giving in the
marital act. That priest, Karol Wojtyla, became Pope John Paul II. He would
call his approach to marital sexuality a “theology of the body.”
Augustine parodied that “in intercourse man becomes all flesh.” But Doms
perceived a profound spiritual dimension in that same act: “Husband and wife
possess each other in intimate love, that is to say spiritually. Each makes a
present of himself or herself in an act which literally is the free giving of the
whole personality.”6 The sexual act itself effects or brings about self-giving.
For that reason the act of intercourse is sacramental.
In the sixteenth century the Spanish Jesuit Thomas Sanchez was among the
first moralists to recognize a connection between physical acts of affection
and the expression of married love. In 1935, Herbert Doms proposed that
marital intercourse itself was the primary way spouses expressed their self-
giving love for each other. He stated that the power to express self-giving “is
inseparable from the sexual act and is even more closely bound up with it than
the expressing of love and tenderness is bound up with kissing or embrac-
ing.”7 While a kiss can express the self-giving of one spouse to another, the
kiss does so “far less forcibly than sexual union.”8 A man and woman about
to marry seek sexual union first and foremost: “When a man and woman unite
to form the sexual community of marriage, they are usually concerned chiefly
with one another, not with a third person—the child.”9 Simply said, “the
union of husband and wife in the marital two-in-oneship is a natural result of
the special properties of human sexual intercourse.”10
In the fifth century St. Augustine declared that the procreation of children
was most useful and therefore procreation was the first good of marriage. In
the thirteenth century St. Thomas Aquinas adapted Augustine’s perspective
by saying that the primary purpose of marital intercourse was the procreation
and education of children. In 1935, while not denying the procreative pur-
pose, Doms introduced a new term with a new emphasis—namely, the “direct
purpose” of marital intercourse. “The direct purpose of physical intercourse,”
he wrote, “is to bring about the real union of two persons in a single vital re-
lationship.”11 Thus, the most immediate purpose of marital intimacy is union
with one’s beloved in the sexual act of two-in-oneship.
Mutual Self-Giving
Elaborating on the meaning and nature of the marital act, Doms pointed out
that in such two-in-oneship activity “the persons give themselves to each other,
A Rejected Perspective 141
act upon each other and mutually accept each other in one common act.”12 He
reasoned that the meaning of the marital act derives from the act itself, not
from some meaning extrinsically imposed upon it. Sexual union, by its very
nature, possesses “a unique power for expressing the mutual self-giving of
partners.”13 Thus the marital act expresses the mutual self-giving of spouses
“as immediately and directly as the reception of the Eucharist expresses the
self-giving of the individual to the Savior by the very fact of its reality.”14
Drawing on a comparison made by St. Bonaventure in the thirteenth cen-
tury, Doms noted that in the act of receiving the Eucharist a person is directly
united to Christ and therefore that person becomes more closely united with
the other members of the Body of Christ. Doms thought that the closer one
member of the Body of Christ is united to another through sexual union, the
more both persons are united to Christ. Doms noted that St. Thomas Aquinas
placed marriage in the last place among the sacraments because it had the
“least spirituality.”15 The reason why Aquinas thought as he did was that he
looked at the sexual relationship of husband and wife “very much from the
outside.”16
By the beginning of the third century, and perhaps earlier, churchmen had
adopted a Platonic or dualistic perspective. Thus, those church leaders had as-
sumed there was an opposition between the bodily dimension and the spiritual
dimension of human beings. Doms, seeing no such opposition, understood the
physical body of each spouse to be an integral aspect of the symbolism of the
marital sacrament. He pointed out that the human body possesses a “special
power to fulfill two persons through making them one.”17 Since the “body
. . . is the means of direct contact between the persons and the means by which
they participate in the life of each other,”18 it followed that bodily passion and
sexual pleasure should be welcomed, not rejected or disdained.
Though a “purely inner act of love” may be able to lead lovers to some
form of moral or spiritual union, “only in sexual union is the very act of the
one received into the very self of the other.”19 Because the person is insepa-
rable from his or her body, “the act of the body becomes the physical and,
consequently, perceptible expression of the love of the person who gives
himself in order to fulfill the other.”20 This mutual self-giving is exemplified
in the Pauline comparison of the love of Christ for his church with the love
of husband and wife. Accordingly, “the love and mutual loyalty of Christ and
the Church is really a result of their utter possession of each other.”21
Marriage: A Reflection of the Love of Christ for His Church

Doms then commented on the long-neglected theme of the sacramental union
of Christ with his church: “The whole Christ gives Himself to each of the
142 Chapter 17
sanctified members of the Church, as to the whole Church, and He expects

[each Christian] to give Him his [her] whole life in return.”22 In such sac-
ramental self-giving, spouses possess each other’s persons and “participate
in each other’s bodies” for the whole of their lives.23 According to Catholic
sacramental theology, a sacrament “effects” or brings about that which the
sacrament signifies. Therefore, the marital act is sacramental because it
brings about the personal union of spouses. Thus, “the marriage act is the
most complete expression of marital unity and the deepest experience of
marital life; it is also a very expressive likeness of the mystical unity of Christ
with the Church.”24
Building upon von Hildebrand’s positive appreciation of the marital act
in terms of its unitive meaning, Doms articulated what churchmen had over-
looked for most of the Catholic Church’s history—namely, that marital inter-
course enhances spousal love: “The marriage act, when ruled by chastity and
the moral virtues, will necessarily tend to bring into birth this intimate love, if
it was not in existence at the conclusion of the marriage ceremony. If this kind
of love already existed, the [sexual] act will strengthen and deepen it.”25
St. Augustine could not see any other way in which Eve could be a “help-
mate” for Adam except by bearing children. But Doms perceived that God
intended the helping relationship to be a sexual partnering, a two-in-oneship
form of mutual help. Having created them as male and female, God “made
it possible for them to receive, each from the other, and to exert, each upon
the other, this deep formative impression . . . through the performance of
the [sexual] act.”26 God created people as sexual beings so that a man and a
woman could become “the very body of the other, and each be with the other
‘one flesh.’”27 Thus our human sexual differentiation “is the most powerful
of the means ordained by God to teach us to love the person as an individual,
and to realize this love in an utterly individual way.”28
Marital Relations and Procreation

The traditional teaching held that procreation justified acts of marital inter-
course. But Doms, noting that the marital act needed to be repeated often
before it became in fact an act of generation, held that “the very nature of
the sexual act emphasizes its personal importance as distinct from its bio-
logical purpose.”29 He concluded that the “primary content” of the sexual
activity of husband and wife is sexual union with one another: “It seems
then that we shall be nearer the truth if we look upon the procreation of
children as the natural result of the act of marital union. . . . We shall cer-
tainly be making a mistake if we subordinate the act in its primary content
to procreation, because in a great number of circumstances (for instance,
during pregnancy or . . . after the change of life) this purpose cannot in fact
be fulfilled.”30
Doms explained why he thought that sexual union, not procreation, was the
“primary context” of marital intercourse. First, the marital union of persons
will generate a child only in a relatively few instances. Second, “in normal
copulation the human act . . . in the strict sense is nothing more or less than
the union of persons.”31 It may well be true that in willing a particular act of
sexual union both husband and wife will also the procreation of offspring.
When taking into account the hundreds or even thousands of acts of sexual
union in the course of a marriage, it is clear that the vast majority of these acts
are performed because husband and wife are seeking marital union with one
another. Doms noted that “the biological object of the act,” the conception of
a human person, is “something far less frequently achieved.”32
Resolving Some Problems

In the long history of the development of the Catholic Church’s teaching on
marital relations, the issue regarding the purposes of marital intercourse had
revolved around the idea of procreation as the “primary purpose.” However,
when taking into account pregnancy, sterility, and change of life, one sees
an inherent problem in the teaching that the procreation of children is the
primary purpose of marital intercourse. In an attempt to deal with that prob-
lem, Doms raised this question: What was the purpose of a “perfectly natural
sexual act” when procreation could no longer be the objective purpose of that
marital act? Doms answered: “In my view, the only possible purpose is the
representation and realization by husband and wife of their state of two-in-
oneship.”33 Since God gave marriage the essential content of sexual union
(two-in-oneship), there existed no necessity to choose “between the two
purposes of sexual activity—either procreation of children or the subjective
fulfillment of husband and wife.”34
Doms attempted to resolve a perennial problem by asserting that the mari-
tal act had one immediate purpose and “two ulterior purposes, one personal
and the other biological.”35 The ulterior personal purpose of marital sex, he
said, is the fulfillment of husband and wife at every level of their human
existence. The ulterior biological purpose of intercourse is procreation, a
purpose that is impossible to achieve in each and every act of intercourse.36
With these distinctions in place, Doms offered his solution to the issue of a
couple’s participating in marital intercourse while pregnant or sterile or while
hoping that conception would not result. Simply stated, the direct purpose of
the couple’s act of marital intercourse is sexual union, that is, the realization
of the “two-in-oneship.”
144 Chapter 17
DOMS’ IDEAS REJECTED
Dietrich von Hildebrand’s books, In Defense of Purity and Marriage, had

generated a modest but favorable reception in 1927 and 1929. Doms’ The
Meaning and End of Marriage was published in German in 1935, translated
into French in 1937, and translated into English in 1939. With Doms’ book on
their desks or nightstands, married couples were able to better articulate the
goodness of their sexual loving. Doms’ personalist view of the ends of mar-
riage proclaimed that their acts of conjugal union were primarily orientated
toward the proper perfection of each other. Spouses could view their acts of
sexual union in terms of both natural and spiritual values. Those values were
said to be present even when the good of offspring was not achieved.37
But some things Doms had written would get him in trouble. He had stated
that “the sexual act does not derive its dignity and its grandeur from the fact
that it is performed with a view to procreation.”38 He had also written that
“perhaps it would be best if, in the future, we give up using such terms as
‘primary’ and ‘secondary’ in speaking of the purposes of intercourse.”39 And
so Doms’ opponents, wielding the sword of Aquinas’ scholastic philosophy,
slashed and hacked at Doms’ personalist approach. Seeing “a rejection of the
traditional theory of the ends,” the defenders of traditional Catholic teaching
rallied to the defense of the long-accepted theology on the purposes of marital
intercourse.40
R. Boigelot, a French Jesuit, drew up one list of charges. Doms had substi-
tuted “the subjective experience of married couples for the objective reality
of marriage.”41 Doms was then accused of making pleasure the primary end
of sexuality.42 Furthermore, Doms was accused of encouraging “an inevitable
overestimation of sexuality on the part of readers.”43 Because Doms had
placed the good of the individual couple before the good of the human spe-
cies, other critics labeled his approach to marital intimacy as “individualistic
and sexolatric.”44
Thus, in 1939, even as the English edition of The Meaning of Marriage
appeared with an imprimatur (ecclesiastical permission to print), Doms’ book
was being withdrawn from sale in other parts of Europe. Five years later, on
April 1, 1944, the Holy Office, one of the key congregations of the Vatican,
delivered the final blow. Noting that certain theologians “attached” unac-
ceptable meanings to certain words such as “end,” “primary,” and “second-
ary,” the Holy Office asked: “Can the opinion of certain modern writers be
admitted, who either deny that the primary end of marriage is the generation
and education of children or teach that the secondary ends are not essentially
subordinate to the primary end, but are equally principal and independent?”45
The Holy Office answered: “Negative.”
Although Doms was not specifically named as one of the offending “mod-
ern writers,” the rebuke was understood as aimed at him. In one fell swoop
the Holy Office undermined Doms’ reputation and destroyed any authority
his work may have had.46
NOTES
1. Dr. Herbert Doms, The Meaning of Marriage, trans. George Sayer (London:
Sheed & Ward, 1939), xxi.
2. Doms, The Meaning of Marriage, 7–8.
3. Doms, The Meaning of Marriage, 5, 6, 25, and 26.
4. Doms, The Meaning of Marriage, 14.
10. Doms, The Meaning of Marriage, 16
15. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, III, q. 65, a. 2, cited in Doms, The
Meaning of Marriage, 135.
22. Doms, The Meaning of Marriage, 116; see also 130–36.
146 Chapter 17

36. Doms, The Meaning of Marriage, 85. See also 67–81.
37. Rolando B. Arjonillo Jr., Conjugal Love and the Ends of Marriage (New York:
Peter Lang, 1998), 211. Arjonillo draws his information from T. De Urdanoz, “Otro
Grave Problema Moral en Torno al Matrimonio,” in “Ciencia Tomista,” 68 (1945),
234–35.
40. Arjonillo, Conjugal Love and the Ends of Marriage, 210.
41. R. Boigelot, “Du sens et de la fin du mariage,” in Nouvelle Revue Theologique,
30, in Arjonillo, Conjugal Love and the Ends of Mariage, 217–19.
42. R. Boigelot, “Du sens et de la fin du mariage,” cited in Arjonillo, Conjugal
Love and the Ends of Mariage, 218.
45. AAS 36:103, cited in Noonan, Contraception, 591.
46. AAS 36:103, cited in Noonan, Contraception, 591–92.
18
The Break with St. Augustine:
Pope Pius XII Accepts the Rhythm Method
PAPAL ALLOCUTIONS FOR NEWLYWEDS
In 1939, Pope Pius XII began his nineteen-year papal reign. Perhaps the
new ideas about marital intercourse1 put forward by Dietrich von Hildebrand
and Herbert Doms prompted the newly elected pope to give frequent “al-
locutions” to the newly married. On May 24, 1939, Pius XII told the newly
married that their mission in life was to “nourish civil society with good citi-
zens . . . increase the Church of Jesus Christ” and “prepare new citizens for
the heavenly country.”2 In November the pope warned newlyweds to avoid
the “evil utilitarian motive” and “the demands of sterile licentiousness” that
“hinder the gift of life and cause the tender names of brother and sister to
be forgotten.”3 On December 6 the pope, noting that not all Christians were
called to “the sublime ideal” of virginity, said that those who married could
“have the legitimate desire to see yourselves surrounded by a glorious crown
of children, the fruit of your union.”4
On January 15, 1941, Pope Pius XII reminded newlyweds that married
people were called to the ministry of conceiving “children and bringing them
up for divine worship.”5 Two weeks after that, referring to the teaching of St.
Francis de Sales (1567–1622), the pope stated that “mutual affection” was
something merely natural, something immersed “solely in the inclination
that attracts man towards woman.”6 Downplaying human affection, the pope
told the newlyweds that “only divine grace can make” them “superior to all
the daily miseries” that sprang “like weeds, from the root of weak human
nature.”7
147
148 Chapter 18
POPE PIUS XII AND THE ITALIAN

CATHOLIC SOCIETY OF MIDWIVES
On October 29, 1951, Pius XII began his historic allocution to the Italian mid-
wives by asserting that any man who approaches his wife’s womb to “exercise”
his marital right “must know the order which the Creator wishes maintained
and the laws which govern it.”8 If a couple did not want to have another child,
the pope directed the midwife to say: “There is only one way open, namely, to
abstain from every complete performance of the natural faculty.”9
Some spouses might object that “long periods of abstention are impos-
sible.”10 Not so, said the pope. “Abstinence is possible,” since God “obliges
husband and wife to abstinence if their union cannot be completed according
to the laws of nature.”11
Is It So?
The pope’s view of “the laws of nature” seems to have been based not only on
Stoic principles, but also on a mistaken premise made by Aristotle, accepted
by Thomas Aquinas and then incorporated into the church’s teaching. Aris-
totle held that each human sexual act was procreative because the male seed
was the “efficient cause that changed the nutritive material supplied by the
female.”12 For that reason every act of insemination (intercourse) was of itself
procreative.13 St. Thomas Aquinas accepted Aristotle’s mistaken biological
perspective and so did the leaders of the Catholic Church up to and includ-
ing Pope Pius XII himself. However, contrary to what was thought, there is
no strict cause and effect relationship between insemination and procreation.
“The relation of intercourse to procreation is statistical,” and therefore most
acts of sexual intercourse do not lead to conception.14
Advising the Italian Midwives

Since the early centuries of Christianity’s existence, marital intercourse had
been justified by the procreative purpose. Therefore, if husband and wife did
not want to conceive a child at a particular time, they should abstain from
sexual relations. In the mid-twentieth century the pope told the midwives
that such a call for sexual abstinence could not be wrong. Rather, it would
be wrong to conclude that “men and women of our age” were “incapable of
continuous heroism.”15
The pope noted that in the past two decades more and more writers had
discussed something called “personal values.” Such writers were wrong if
they held that “the specifically sexual act” serves the married couple.16 Per-
The Break with St. Augustine 149
haps with Herbert Doms in mind, the pope said that it was erroneous to hold
that “the proper and most profound sense of the exercise of conjugal rights”
consisted in the “personal and affective union” of bodies.17 The idea that the
spousal expression of love might be the primary concern of a couple’s marital
activity was threatening the Catholic Church’s ancient juridical and meta-
physical approach to marital intercourse. So the pope declared that the theory
of personal values in marital intercourse was “a grave inversion of the order
of values and of the ends imposed by the Creator Himself.”18 Since the one
and only primary purpose of marriage was “the procreation and upbringing of
a new life,” every other aspect of marriage and marital sex was “essentially
subordinated” to that primary purpose.19 Both the will of God and of nature
had placed the “most spiritual and profound” aspects of married love “at the
service of posterity.”20
A STRANGE, NEW TWIST: THE RHYTHM METHOD
Since the 1850s there had been several attempts to use a woman’s periodic
infertility to avoid conception. This method had been ineffective until 1929.
Kyusaku Ogino and Hermann Knaus then discovered that ovulation took
place twelve to sixteen days before the beginning of a woman’s next men-
strual period. If a woman’s cycle were regular, she would be able to regulate
her pregnancies by avoiding intercourse during that time of the month when
she was biologically fertile.
The pope’s predecessor, Pope Pius XI, had described the attempt to use the
sterile period as “the art of skillful sinning.”21 During the 1930s and 1940s,
some Catholic theologians speculated that the use of periodic abstention was
indeed sinful, but it was a lesser evil than the outright use of other contracep-
tive methods. Other theologians held that the use of the “rhythm method” was
liable to lead to the denial of marriage rights, lessen marital love, promote
egoistic self-centeredness, and perhaps, if the method failed, even lead to
abortion. One might observe that, in spite of these alleged evil consequences
of practicing the rhythm method, the pope nevertheless approved this method
in 1951. However, in Pope Paul VI’s 1968 encyclical, Humanae Vitae, para-
graph 17, similar evil consequences are ascribed to the use of birth control.
Pope Pius XII viewed the rhythm method as “another grave problem.”22 If
husband and wife employed the new method of regulating conceptions, they
seemed to be engaging in “a clear expression of a will contrary” to the precept
of serving maternity.23 But the pope offered a most unexpected conclusion: In
very particular circumstances a couple might use the sterile period and not com-
mit sin! “The rhythm method,” said the pope, “may be lawful” under certain
150 Chapter 18
conditions.24 The couple needed to have “grave” reasons or “serious motives”

for using this method. Such grave reasons were related to “medical, eugenic,
economic and social indicators.” These indicators “may exempt husband and
wife from the obligatory, positive debt for a long period or even for the entire
period of matrimonial life.”25 This papal teaching constituted a breakthrough in
the Catholic Church’s approach to marital relations. Here was the first official
Catholic teaching acknowledging that a married couple might lawfully engage
in marital intercourse while intending to avoid conceiving a child!
So it was that in 1951, while Pope Pius XII continued to uphold Augus-
tine’s assertion that procreation was the first good of marriage, he disregarded
Augustine’s rule that marital intercourse was only justified by the couple’s
intention to conceive a child. Augustine would have vehemently objected to
this new papal teaching for he had condemned the Manichees for attempting
to prevent conception by avoiding sexual intercourse during certain times of
a woman’s monthly cycle.26
Sexual Pleasure: An Old Problem and a New Recognition

But then came the papal “Catch 22.” Pius XII declared that if the spouses
used the rhythm method “while continuing to satisfy the full of their sensual-
ity,” they committed sin.27 A spouse’s desire for sexual communion with his
or her mate was still associated with the vice of sensuality. A married couple
had no exemption from the duty to procreate if they simply wanted to enjoy
their acts of marital intercourse. Spouses needed more “serious motives” if
they were to “rightly” use the infertile time to regulate the number of their
children. The pope’s address to the Italian midwives also served to refute
those who, like Herbert Doms, proposed that the immediate or direct purpose
of the marital act was union with one’s beloved.
However, a significant development in the church’s teaching occurred
when the pope stated: “Husband and wife, therefore, by seeking and enjoy-
ing this pleasure do no wrong whatever. They accept what the Creator has
destined for them.”28 Finally, after nineteen centuries, a pope had explicitly
accepted the idea that the pleasurable dynamics of marital intercourse was
a reality rooted in God’s creative design for male and female! However,
even with a papal recognition that pleasure in marital relations is good, the
tendency to take away with the left hand what had been given with the right
was again at work. Perhaps the pope feared that some Catholic couples, hav-
ing been temporarily relieved of their obligation to procreate children, would
become unrestrained hedonists. So he warned: “As with the pleasure of food
and drink so with the sexual they must not abandon themselves without re-
straint to the impulses of the senses.”29
THE SUPERIORITY OF VOWED VIRGINITY OVER

SACRAMENTAL MARRIAGE
On March 25, 1954, Pope Pius XII promulgated Sacra Virginitas. Its purpose
was to defend “the excellence of virginity” against those who were “exalting
the married state to the point of placing it above virginity, thereby disparaging
consecrated chastity and ecclesiastical celibacy.”30 There is some irony in the
pope’s declaration because for most of the church’s history her leaders had
exalted consecrated celibacy while disparaging the married state.
The pope’s encyclical was a warning given to those theologians who were
proposing that marital intercourse might be a means to holiness: “It is asserted
in some quarters that the grace of God given by the sacramental agency of
Matrimony hallows the use of matrimony [sexual intercourse] in such a way
as to make it a more powerful instrument of a personal union with God than
virginity itself, since, we are told, Christian wedlock is a sacrament whereas
virginity is not.”31 So the pope declared: “We must denounce this doctrine as
a dangerous error.”32
To strengthen his denouncement of the idea that marital intercourse was
the more meritorious path to God, the pope reminded his audience of the
teachings of St. Augustine and St. Thomas Aquinas. These saints had taught
that the origins of sexual passion were found in Adam and Eve’s sin. The
pope declared: “It is unfortunately true, that, as a result of the first sin, com-
mitted by Adam, our bodily powers and passions have been upset and tend to
domineer, not only our senses, but also over our souls. They darken the mind
and weaken the will.”33
While recognizing that the sacrament of marriage “strengthens the bond of
mutual love,”34 Pius XII asserted that marital intercourse did not strengthen
the bond of one’s love for God. Referring to the 1944 Decree of the Holy Of-
fice that had censured the personalist ideas of Herbert Doms and others, the
pope said that the sacrament of marriage was not established for the purpose
of directly strengthening “the bond of union in charity with God Himself.”35
Stressing that assertion, the pope referred to the traditional but flawed
interpretation of St. Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians. Since Paul had told
married couples “to observe continence for a time in order to give them-
selves to prayer” (1 Cor. 7:5), the pope pointed out that abstaining from
intercourse was a condition for praying.36 Therefore, it followed that marital
intercourse could not bring spouses closer to God. The pope went on to say
that married Catholics were “capable of doing a great deal of good,” but it
would be “sheer topsy-turvydom and confusion” to make that fact “a ground
for saying that marriage is preferable to complete self-dedication” (conse-
crated virginity).37 The pope then conceded that although “virginity is . . .
152 Chapter 18
more perfect than wedlock,” it could be said that “holiness of life can also,
in fact, be achieved without consecrated chastity.”38 This same idea was also
stated by St. Francis de Sales in his seventeenth-century book An Introduc-
tion to the Devout Life.
SUMMARY
On the one hand, Pope Pius XII reasserted the traditional teaching that the
primary purpose of marriage and marital intercourse was the procreation and
education of children. He also upheld the teaching that mutual help and the
alleviation of concupiscence were the secondary ends of marriage. He por-
trayed spouses who wanted to engage in marital intercourse while seeking to
avoid conception as unheroic, selfish, and carnal.
On the other hand, Pius XII proposed that under certain conditions couples
would not sin if they engaged in sexual intercourse while using the sterile
time of a woman’s monthly cycle to avoid conception. In doing so he turned
away from Augustine’s rigid linking of marital intercourse with procreation.
The pope also provided a breakthrough by recognizing that husband and wife
“should experience pleasure and happiness of body and spirit” in marital
intercourse.39
After Pius XII’s address to the Italian midwives, the Catholic Church found
itself in a much broader debate about the purposes of marital intercourse. That
debate would soon be fueled by the complaints of those married Catholics
who used “the rhythm method” only to discover that it brought them troubles
and frustrations.
NOTES
1. For a bibliography on that debate see John C. Ford, S.J., “Marriage: Its Meaning
and Purposes,” Theological Studies 3 (1942), 333 ff.
2. Pope Pius XII, Allocution to Newlyweds, May 24, 1939, selected and arranged
by the Benedictine Monks of Solesmes, in Michael J. Byrnes, trans., Matrimony
(Boston: The Daughters of St. Paul, 1963), 303.
3. Pope Pius XII, Sertum Laetitae, in Byrnes, Matrimony, 307.
4. Pope Pius XII, Allocution to the Newlyweds, December 6, 1939, in Byrnes,
Matrimony, 310.
5. Pope Pius XII, Allocution to Newlyweds, January 15, 1941, in Byrnes, Matri-
mony, 318.
6. Pope Pius XII, Allocution to Newlyweds, January 29, 1941, in Byrnes, Matri-
mony, 319.
7. Pope Pius XII, Allocution to Newlyweds, January 29, 1941, in Byrnes, Mat-
rimony, 319.
8. Pope Pius XII, Allocution to the Midwives, October 29, 1951, in Byrnes,
Matrimony, 405.
9. Pope Pius XII, Allocution to the Midwives, in Byrnes, Matrimony, 420.
12. Richard McCormick, “‘Humanae Vitae’ 25 Years Later,” America, Vol. 169,
no. 2, July 17, 1993, 11.
13. McCormick, “‘Humanae Vitae’ 25 Years Later,” 11.
14. McCormick, “‘Humanae Vitae’ 25 Years Later,” 11.
17. Pope Pius XII, Allocution to the Midwives, in Byrnes, Matrimony, 422–23.
20. Pope Pius XII, Allocution to the Midwives, in Byrnes, Matrimony, 426–27.
21. Pope Pius XI, “The Holiness of Matrimony” (Casti Connubii), in Byrnes,
Matrimony, 278.
26. See Philip Schaff, “On the Morals of the Manichaeans,” in The Works of Saint
Augustine, trans. Rev. R. Stothert (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publish-
ing Company, 1979), chapter 18, 65, 86.
30. Pope Pius XII, Sacra Virginitas, March 25, 1954, in Byrnes, Matrimony, 464.
31. Pope Pius XII, Sacra Virginitas, in Byrnes, Matrimony, 470.
19
The Effects of Papal Teaching:
Frustration and Tears
A PERTINENT STORY
In December 1958 I found myself in a Chicago hospital with “Doc” as my

roommate. Doc, a man in his forties, confided in me that he could not receive
the Eucharist from the hospital chaplain because he and his wife were using
artificial birth control. At the time I was a nineteen-year-old novice with the
Congregation of the Clerics of St. Viator. After returning to the novitiate, I
decided to convince Doc to stop using sinful birth control methods. To that
end I sent him an article from The Liguorian, a Catholic monthly. Written by
a priest whose byline was “The Bystander,” the article began with a letter that
was “typical of the many that we receive.”1
Dear Editor: Would you like to know what it is like being a Catholic who prac-
tices birth control? . . . After 8 years and 6 children we learned a lot. Our doctor
can only explain why rhythm doesn’t work for some women—including me. He
can explain why I must stay off my feet the last 5 months of pregnancy. . . .
The picture isn’t pretty. Three years ago our baby was born and not expected
to live. The extra medical bills . . . had us living in an old drafty house with no
plumbing. We knew something had to be done and rhythm wasn’t the answer.
The only two “sure” methods were to abstain from the marriage act for several
weeks at a time or to use contraception.
My husband was 30 years old and wouldn’t consider the first method. So we
chose mortal sin.
In 3 years I have seen my husband turn from a practical Catholic into a luke-
warm one. . . . He didn’t go to Communion after going to confession at Christ-
mas time. I’m afraid the priest refused him absolution. I don’t ask. My confessor
has refused me absolution until I give up this sin. I want to—believe me. . . .
155
156 Chapter 19
My husband is wonderful with the children. He is a steady worker and over

the years he has given up fishing, hunting, his occasional beer, barber shop hair-
cuts, and now cigarettes, to save money for the children’s expenses. We can’t
continue that way for 12 to 15 years until time solves our problems. We must
do something soon—but what? . . . Thanks for hearing me out.2
The Bystander responded that “only a heartless representative of Christ

would not be moved to sympathy” by such a letter. But it was “impossible
for me as a priest (or for any priest in the whole wide world) to tell you that
yours is a case in which it is lawful to practice birth-prevention.”3
The Bystander offered the following four-step program that would lead
both wife and husband “back into a state of mind that will make a sin like that
of birth prevention unthinkable.”4 First she had to confide her story to a priest
who would give her “practical suggestions” that would serve “as a backdrop
for giving up mortal sin.”5 Second she had to spend fifteen to thirty minutes
a day in recommended spiritual reading. “If you are ever to escape from your
sins,” the Bystander warned, “don’t say you are too busy or too tired to do
any reading.”6 The third step involved seeking out “other mothers and fathers
of large families who face the same temptations you do, but have overcome
them.”7 Such a group should read and discuss portions of Pope Pius XI’s 1930
encyclical, Casti Connubii. Prayer was the fourth step. She was instructed to
say prayers in the morning and the evening, recite the rosary daily, attend
“some public novena devotion every week if that is possible,” and “make a
special visit to the Blessed Sacrament every day.”8
It was a tough, monastic regimen to be sure, but the Bystander’s plan may
well have worked. After taking care of her six children and keeping the pre-
scribed spiritual routine, it would be unlikely that this woman would have
time or energy left for any sinful sex with her husband.
Thus I had done my part to help Doc and his wife turn from their sins of
using birth control. Doc never replied.
MARRIED CATHOLICS AND

THEIR EXPERIENCES OF MARRIAGE
In the nineteen hundred years since First Corinthians was written, the fathers
of the church, the Irish monks, theologians, canon lawyers, authors of moral
manuals, members of the Roman Penitentiary, and numerous bishops and
popes had formed the church’s theology regarding marital intercourse. But
married people never had their say. In 1964 that long silence ended when thir-
teen couples wrote about their personal experience of Catholic marriage in a
The Effects of Papal Teaching 157
book entitled The Experience of Marriage. While the stories of these couples
cannot be said to sum up all of the marital experience of Catholic Christians,
their accounts indicate that, in the decade following Pope Pius XII’s approval
of rhythm, the use of the sterile time produced sexual tension, anxiety, and
frustration for at least some couples.
Entitling their essay “Permanent Continence,” Mr. and Mrs. A wrote that
they had four children in five years of marriage, the last two children con-
ceived while they were “practicing rhythm.” Mr. A described their six years
of married life in terms of “three contexts.” The first involved “learning to
love as man and wife” in a way that was “not complicated by a need to avoid
pregnancy.”9 The second context, “the rhythm context,” began after the birth
of their second child. He and his wife consulted calendar and temperature
charts in the hope of arriving “at some approximate knowledge” of when they
could “allow their mutual love to overflow into its fullest and most complete
expression” and “when they could not.”10 When the calendar did not permit
them to become two in one flesh, they found themselves acting out their
“common role of sexual indifference and personal distance.”11
After rhythm “proved unreliable,” the third context of “sustained conti-
nence” began. Mr. A summed up the dilemma of Catholic couples: “[E]ither
they risk the good of the family and the health of the wife by making another
pregnancy possible . . . or they risk the psychological damage and frustration
of a wedded life without sexual union.”12
“A Harsh and Terrible Thing” was the title of Mr. and Mrs. B’s testimony
after ten children in eighteen years. Finding “Vatican roulette” unreliable,
Mrs. B stated that “conception became sometimes a matter of desire out-
weighing fear.”13 Mrs. B’s “dominant moral anxiety in the use of sex” was the
likelihood of conceiving more children. Mr. B agreed with his wife.
Mrs. C described the effects of her many pregnancies on their sexual rela-
tionship: “As my fear of pregnancy grew, and as I found myself bone-weary
with caring for my young children, I was less and less able to respond to
gestures of love and affection from my husband.”14 She lost sexual desire for
her husband: “I soon reached a point where I experienced none myself, and I
even resented and shrugged off ordinary everyday signs of affection.”15 Mrs.
C concluded her testimony with these mournful words: “And so I was passive
and dutiful and frigid, enduring his love with no response.”16
Mr. C recalled that he and his wife married “primarily because we loved
each other.”17 A dutiful Catholic and father of seven children, Mr. C found
himself living in the context of “sustained continence.” He then searched
for novel ways that would enable him to cease being “a beast with physical
needs.” He confided, “You train yourself no longer to see her as ‘desirable,’
so that she is no longer a threat to your continent virtue, no longer a real
158 Chapter 19
physical value in your life.”18 Given enough time and enough “heroic pur-
pose,” Mr. C managed to render his desire for his wife “completely sterile.”19
Augustine, along with numerous other saints, theologians, and popes, would
have applauded Mr. C’s success in overcoming his concupiscence.
Mrs. D, having married Mr. D at the beginning of his graduate studies, had
three “rhythm pregnancies” in five and a half years of marriage. Mrs. D de-
scribed herself and her husband as “a normal, healthy married couple not yet
thirty years old.” She wistfully confided that, because of their circumstances,
they never really had the chance to explore freely their sexual yearning for
each other as husband and wife.20 After six years of marriage they found
themselves having, “with considerable trepidation,” sexual intercourse about
once every three months.21
The traditional approach presumed that spouses who did not practice
sexual restraint were “indulging in endless orgies of sex.”22 Mrs. D disagreed:
“[F]requent and regular intimacy encourages control, consideration for the
other, the building of subtleties into the relationship [and] the primacy of the
relationship over the gratification.”23 She concluded that those who advocate
the rhythm method do not realize that this method can be “unnatural, un-
healthy and spiritually destructive.”24
However, Mr. E, the father of six children in nine years of marriage, did not
experience the rhythm method as something harmful. Admitting that rhythm
“does have its tensions,” he discovered that “if I am working very hard,
smoking too much, drinking too much coffee, wrapped up in some article or
book I am writing, rhythm is no problem at all.”25 He added: “At such times
I couldn’t care less about intercourse.”26
Mrs. E acknowledged that on certain occasions she had “been tempted to
old-fashioned lust,”27 but she had also conquered the “tensions” of rhythm
through work. While admitting “sex is . . . one of the world’s most exquisite
pleasures,” Mrs. E queried: “[W]ho has time for exquisite pleasures?”28 Her
life was so crowded with children, deadlines, and “never-ending work sched-
ules” that “time passes so quickly that a month’s abstinence now equals a
day’s denial in times past.”29
Mrs. F had married at age twenty. Six years and three children later, she
stated that she “had been living in a state of suppressed rage for five years, a
rage at trying to conform to standards that were an insult to my intelligence and
my feelings.”30 Mr. and Mrs. F concluded that when Catholic couples attempt to
regulate fertility according to papal teaching, they “will have to sacrifice much
in sexual relationship, so much in fact that in many cases we must conclude that
requirements for a full and satisfying sexual life have been destroyed.”31
Summing up the last five years of their six-year marriage, Mrs. F bitterly
reflected: “We realized that the rhythm method is in such direct contradic-
tion to the natural emotional rhythms of man and wife, and was forcing us
to live under such a regime of anxiety, tension, and dissatisfaction that our
whole marital life was on the verge of turning into something very cold and
angry.”32
When Mrs. F was carrying her third child, she and her husband came to
the realization “that we had reached the end of our rope and we could no
longer live under such a biological tyranny.”33 They decided to use contracep-
tives to provide a form of birth regulation that was both more effective and
that did not create so many spiritual, psychological, physical, and biological
conflicts.34 Mrs. F concluded: “For the first time, we can feel free to embrace
when our feelings and psychological rhythms really draw us together, instead
of trying to turn ourselves off and on in some mechanized fashion.”35
Between the ages of twenty-nine and thirty-four Mrs. G gave birth to four
children. Experiencing health problems, she and her husband began a strict
observance of periodic abstinence. Nevertheless, two more children were
born in the next six years. For the rest of their marriage they “abstained for all
but five or six days at the end of every month, and practiced total abstinence
as long as five months” after each birth.36
Mrs. G enumerated some of the effects of church teaching: “I must admit
to a burning rage when I see women suffering, and need not look far: my
friend in her early forties with ten living children, suffering a miscarriage
with serious aftereffects; an acquaintance, a young mother in our parish with
four children, recently returned from her second stay in a mental hospital,
where her doctors warned her against bearing any more children; yet she is
psychologically unable to bear the conflict between this advice, that of her
confessor, and the demands of her husband. Again, there are several young
women I know, still in their mid-twenties and pregnant with their fifth child
in five years; and the women whose veins deteriorate more and more with
each successive pregnancy.”37
Mr. H would come home only to find his wife constantly worn out by the
“attention which three young children demand.”38 Even if he and his wife
could “afford more children financially,” they could not “afford them emo-
tionally and spiritually.”39
Using periodic abstinence, Mr. H said he found it difficult “to have a mean-
ingful sexual relationship with my wife.”40 For twenty years they abstained
from marital intimacy “for about half of the menstrual cycle,” a practice that
prevented them from making “any significant progress in achieving a more
satisfactory sexual relationship.”41 Mr. H hoped that such sacrifice would
become “a means to our sanctification.”42
Mr. and Mrs. I conceived a child almost immediately after their wedding.
While she was nursing their baby, she asked her confessor for permission to
160 Chapter 19
use the rhythm method for a few months after she stopped nursing her baby.
The priest made it known that “the idea of a mother with one child want-
ing to use rhythm was selfish.”43 A second pregnancy soon followed. Mrs.
I concluded that the kind of continence demanded by rhythm seemed “mor-
ally objectionable” because “love cannot be turned on like a faucet at certain
times of the month and shut off during fertile periods.”44
Mr. I was of the opinion that if the churchmen who so solemnly “officiate”
on the conduct of marital love today were present at the wedding feast of
Cana (John 2:1–11), they “would have spoken of indulgence and self-control,
of the necessity to curb our appetites, and with the academic detachment bely-
ing any pertinent experience they would have praised God for protecting the
guests from excesses.”45
Once married, Mr. and Mrs. J discovered for themselves that spouses
are “better people, better parents, better citizens [and] better candidates for
sainthood because they are better bedmates.”46 Mr. and Mrs. J hoped that the
Catholic Church would develop “a sharper perspective . . . on the sacredness
of the body and sex in marriage.”47
Mr. and Mrs. L were parents of five children in seven and a half years.
“Biological calculation” had replaced “joy and affection” in their marriage.48
Mr. L recounted how his wife’s health broke down while carrying their fifth
child. After that, they began to practice rhythm. Once it happened that Mrs.
L’s period was two weeks late. Mr. L came home “to find the house in disor-
der, my wife sitting distraught on the floor of the living room with the chil-
dren gathered around her. She was immobile, unable to care for them. When
I tried to encourage her to get up, and said that things would somehow work
out all right, she broke down. For nearly thirty minutes, she could only repeat,
over and over, ‘You don’t understand, you don’t understand.’”49 Together
they prayed that they would be spared another child.
Reflecting on his experience of marriage, Mr. K found a certain kind of
consolation in two concepts developed by the sixteenth-century Spanish mys-
tic, St. John of the Cross—namely, “the dark night of the soul” and “the dark
night of the senses.” Mr. K accepted rhythm as “the ‘dark night’ of this half
of the twentieth century.”50 Giving up all attempts “to understand the ethics of
rhythm,” Mr. K yielded his assent: “The Church has spoken. It is enough.”51
THE SLEEPLESS MORAL THEOLOGIAN
In 1964, the same year in which The Experience of Marriage appeared,

Father Charles E. Curran wrote: “I am a moral theologian. I teach in a semi-
nary. Some nights I have trouble getting to sleep.” He explained what was
troubling: “Questions and doubts race through my mind about the church’s
teaching on birth control. Every time I talk with other priests they invariably
bring up the same subject. Why is birth control wrong? What shall we tell our
penitents? I think of a young couple I know who have nine children and live
on a school teacher’s salary. After their fourth baby, a priest . . . advised them
to stay away from each other. But they are husband and wife. One day they
came to tell me that the night before they had exchanged sexual intimacies;
both were tense and he had lost the seed. Together they cried.”52
“Why is birth control wrong?” The answer is found in the history of the
Catholic Church’s teaching on marriage. Birth control is wrong because of
the way the fathers of the church reacted to the teachings and practices of
Gnostics and Manichees. Birth control is wrong because those early church
leaders formulated the doctrine that marital intercourse was justified only by
the usefulness of procreation. Birth control is wrong because the Stoics taught
that the natural law directed human beings to use sexual intercourse only for
the reproduction of the human species.
Birth control is also wrong because, after the historical context that had
brought about the church’s attitude of pelvic anxiety had changed, leaders of
the church did not reexamine the foundations of that negative attitude. Birth
control is wrong because, through nearly eighteen centuries of the church’s
existence, her leaders saw marital relations only in terms of the couple’s
double obligation to procreate and to avoid seeking lustful pleasure.
NOTES
1. The Bystander, “Is Heaven Worth It?,” The Liguorian (October 1957), 29.
2. Bystander, “Is Heaven Worth It?,” 29–30.
3. Bystander, “Is Heaven Worth It?,” 30.
9. Michael Novak, ed., The Experience of Marriage (New York: The Macmillan
Company, 1964), 2.
10. Novak, The Experience of Marriage, 9.
162 Chapter 19

37. Novak, The Experience of Marriage, 93–94.
44. Novak, The Experience of Marriage, 121–22.
52. Charles E. Curran, Christian Morality Today (Notre Dame, Ind.: Fides Pub-
lishers, Inc., 1966), 47.
20
The Second Vatican Council (1962–1965)
Recognizes the Value of Marital Love
OVERVIEW
In the course of nineteen centuries it can be said that the Catholic Church
developed three types or doctrinal patterns regarding marital intercourse. The
first pattern centered on the reproductive function of marital intercourse. The
second pattern viewed sexual intimacy as a source of shame and defilement.
The third pattern saw marital intercourse as a source of spousal intimacy and
as a symbolic expression of the union of Christ and his church.1 The first and
second patterns formed the core of the Catholic Church’s teaching on marital
intercourse. The third was largely ignored. The Second Vatican Council’s
Constitution on the Church in the Modern World (1965) adopted the third
pattern as the basis for its doctrinal treatment of marriage.
PREPARATION FOR THE VATICAN COUNCIL’S

TEACHING ON MARRIAGE
In 1959 Pope John XXIII announced that he would call the world’s Catholic
bishops to an ecumenical council in Rome. Preparing for that council, the
Holy Office wanted a preliminary document on the properties, ends, and the
use of marriage (marital intercourse). The document’s purpose would be to
strengthen the church’s traditional teaching. Therefore, the document would
focus on continence and chastity by stating the superiority of virginity over
the married state, reaffirming procreation as the primary end of marriage, re-
asserting the papal teachings of Popes Pius XI and Pius XII, and condemning
a variety of errors relating to marital sexuality.2
163
164 Chapter 20
When that document, On the Moral Order, was presented in May 1961,
both Rev. Bernard Häring and Rev. Rene Laurentin objected to its negative
tone, its heavy emphasis on procreation, and its omission of the importance
of spousal love.3 Father Bernard Häring and a few members of the theological
commission wanted to broaden the church’s theology of marriage by includ-
ing the personalist perspectives that had been developed by Dietrich von
Hildebrand and Herbert Doms. So, using statements found in The Catechism
of the Council of Trent and in Pope Pius XI’s Casti Connubii, Häring and
his party argued that the total communion of husband and wife is “the chief
reason and purpose of marriage.”4
Rev. Francis Hurth rejected Häring’s argument on the ground that it “con-
tradicted Church teaching.”5 The “traditionalists” opposed any new develop-
ment in the theology of marriage. So they attached this warning footnote to
the text on the ends of marriage: “Some people, on the basis of a statement
in the Roman Catechism (The Catechism of the Council of Trent) that is cited
there, are unduly exalting conjugal love as the primary purpose of marriage.”6
The traditionalists subsequently posted warning notes in those texts where
any attempt was made to speak “of conscience, of charity, of freedom, of
sexuality [and] of married love.”7
THE SECOND VATICAN COUNCIL
When the world’s Catholic bishops met in October 1962, they rejected sixty-
nine out of the seventy prepackaged, Curia-dominated documents that had
been submitted to them. The gathered bishops then realized they had a real
opportunity to influence the future of the Catholic Church.
Cardinal Leon Suenens, archbishop of Malines-Brussels, feared that On
the Moral Order, the draft on Christian marriage, might slip through the
council’s screening committees and end up as part of an official document.
So, in December of 1962, Suenens privately spoke with Pope John XXIII.
The cardinal suggested that Pope John appoint a special commission to look
into ways in which certain new empirical findings on birth control might re-
late to the church’s teaching on marriage. Suenens later acknowledged that he
thought it was time to propose an intelligent statement on responsible parent-
hood, and thus try to reform the old idea “the more children the better.”8
The Pontifical “Birth Control Commission”

In March 1963, Pope John XXIII secretly appointed three priests and three
laymen to “the Pontifical Commission for the Study of Population, the Fam-
The Second Vatican Council Recognizes the Value of Marital Love 165
ily and Birth.” The six men met at a Belgian hotel that October and all six
agreed with Pope Pius XI’s 1930 condemnation of artificial birth control.9
However, when this six-man commission began to seek ways to enunciate
persuasive arguments for Pius XI’s teaching on the intrinsic evil of artificial
birth control methods, they were unable to do so. The pill had been developed
and certain theologians were beginning to question the church’s condemna-
tion of all methods of birth control. So the six-man commission asked the
new pope, Paul VI, for more help. The pope added seven more members in
1964, four of whom were moral theologians. Now the group included the
“notoriously liberal” Bernard Häring, who had vigorously disagreed with the
description of marital love as a secondary end of marriage.10
When the Pontifical Commission met in April 1964, its members began
to “reevaluate the church’s whole approach” to marital sexuality.11 Com-
mission member John Marshall later reported an exchange between Dr.
Willem Marinus van Rossum and one of the priests on the commission. The
doctor began by noting that married couples had a duty to love each other
“carnally.”12 When a priest objected to some of van Rossum’s thinking, the
doctor responded: “You think of sex as something you must avoid in order to
be faithful to your vocation. That is all right for you. But our vocation is to
love one another.”13 In a nineteen-page summary given to Pope Paul VI, Dr.
Henri de Riedmattan reported that “the group unanimously affirms that love
is at the heart of marriage, and a majority of the members agree that the love
of husband and wife would not, in any way, be ranked among the secondary
ends of marriage.”14
The commission was also becoming aware that Stoicism’s natural law
argument had its weaknesses. To begin with, “natural” was a difficult term to
define. Disease and famine were also “natural” but overcoming both through
human ingenuity was morally good. Part of Dr. de Riedmattan’s message to
Pope Paul VI stated: “The members concur that ‘the natural law alone can-
not provide a good answer’ to the perplexities presented by the birth control
dilemma.”15
In late April 1964 news of the behind-the-scenes discussions of birth con-
trol became public. On June 23, 1964, Pope Paul VI met with the College of
Cardinals and told the cardinals that the issue of birth control “is being sub-
jected to study, as wide and profound as possible.”16 Declaring that the rules
of Pope Pius XII “must be considered valid,” the pope removed the issue of
birth control from further discussion by the bishops of the Second Vatican
Council.17 But the pope’s announcement stirred further debate. For example,
a survey of German, French, and Dutch literature on the subject of birth con-
trol revealed that “roughly ninety to ninety-five per cent of fertile Catholic
couples offend against the norms” of Pope Pius XII.18 Concerning the practice
166 Chapter 20
of birth control, the survey noted that even “with the best will in the world,
the majority of our faithful find it impossible to live up to the demands of
moral teaching about marriage as it stands today.”19
The Third Session of the Second Vatican Council

In the fall of 1964, the council president announced to the bishops that the
birth control issue was not to be discussed because the special commission
was handling it. However, while more or less avoiding direct discussion of
the birth control issue, the bishops did begin to process the way in which
traditional church teaching on the purposes of marriage impacted the lives
of the faithful.
Cardinal Paul Léger was the first of four speakers to find some fault with
the Catholic Church’s traditional approach to marriage. On October 28,
1964, he spoke of “a certain pessimistic and negative attitude regarding hu-
man love” that had developed out of the “philosophies of past centuries,”
an attitude that “has veiled the importance and legitimacy of conjugal love
in marriage.”20 Léger argued that the draft under discussion “should clearly
present human conjugal love . . . as a true end of marriage, as something good
in itself.”21
Léger also declared: “Conjugal love is good and holy in itself and should
be accepted by Christians without fear.”22 Echoing ideas like those articulated
by Dietrich von Hildebrand and Herbert Doms, the cardinal said: “It must
also be stated that the intimate union of the spouses also finds a purpose in
love.”23 He concluded by stating: “And this end [the expression of love] is
truly the end of the act itself, lawful in itself, even when it is not ordained to
procreation.”24
Cardinal Suenens spoke next. Also using terminology similar to that found
in Doms’ The Meaning of Marriage, the cardinal archbishop of Malines-
Brussels recognized that in the past churchmen might “have accentuated . . .
‘increase and multiply’ to such a point that we have obscured another text, ‘and
they will be two in one flesh.’” 25 Suenens added that St. Paul had given “the
very love of Christ for his Church as a prototype for Christian marriage.”26
Suenens then suggested that the assembled bishops distance themselves
from centuries of negative thinking: “The problem confronts us not because
the faithful try to satisfy their passions and their egotism, but because thou-
sands of them try with anguish to live in double fidelity, to the doctrine of the
Church and to the demands of conjugal and parental love.”27 He then urged
the council’s bishops to be “done with Manichean pessimism.”28
Maximos IV Saigh, the eighty-seven-year-old patriarch of Antioch, also
addressed the “agonizing and burdensome” problem of birth control.29 He
portrayed the faithful as people finding “themselves forced to live in conflict

with the law of the church, far from the sacraments, in constant anguish,
unable to find a viable solution between two contradictory imperatives:
conscience and normal married life.”30 Noting some of the sources of the
church’s sexual pessimism, Maximos IV asked: “Are we not, perhaps unwill-
ingly, setting up a Manichaean conception of man and the world, in which the
work of the flesh, vitiated in itself, is tolerated only in view of children?”31
The next speaker, Bishop Beitia of Santander, Spain, voiced his opposition
to those bishops who questioned traditional Catholic doctrine on the purposes
of marital intercourse. He faulted the draft on marriage and the family be-
cause it seemed to state that the marital sacrament depended upon “love.”32
He refocused attention on the old definition of marriage as a contract. Regard-
ing those situations in which parents found it impossible to reconcile their
sexual responsibility to each other with the desire not to have children, those
spouses should know that “divine law might require heroic sacrifices.”33
Siding with Bishop Beitia, Cardinal E. Ruffini, Bishop of Palermo, criti-
cized the draft for stating that couples could make decisions regarding the
number of children they would procreate. Ruffini then suggested that the
writings of St. Augustine should be used “in reproof of selfish sexuality
which was rampant today.” He declared that the council could resolve the
whole controversy by citing Pope Pius XI’s encyclical, Casti Connubii, and
Pius XII’s allocution to the Italian midwives.34
Cardinal B. Alfrink, bishop of Utrecht in the Netherlands, disagreed with
bishops Ruffini and Beitia. Referring to those who had pointed out that sacri-
fice and the Cross were vital to Christianity, the cardinal declared that the joy
of Easter also pertained to the essence of Christianity. Noting the anguish of
loyal Catholics, Alfrink asserted that God did not take pleasure in the diffi-
culties of human beings.35 Besides, there existed “an honest doubt” regarding
the teaching that “complete or periodic continence” is the only solution to
“conflicts in married life.”36
Cardinal Alfredo Ottaviani, whose personal motto was Semper idem
(“always the same”), spoke next. Claiming certainty in the truth of Catholic
teaching, Ottaviani staunchly opposed any revision of the teaching on mar-
riage. He scolded those bishops who spoke up for change: “I am not pleased
with the statement . . . that married couples can determine the number of
children they are to have. This has never been heard before in the history of
the Church.”37 In a very real sense the cardinal was correct. The faithful never
had the chance to be heard regarding their experience of marriage. Cardinal
Ottaviani continued: “Are we to think that the precept, ‘Increase and mul-
tiply,’ is contradicted by the precept, ‘They shall be two in one flesh’? The
priest who speaks to you is the eleventh of twelve children, whose father was
168 Chapter 20
a laborer in a bakery. . . . My parents never doubted Providence. Their motto

was: ‘Look to the birds of the air and the lilies of the field.’”38
More Members for the Pontifical Birth Control Commission

In December 1964, Pope Paul VI added more than forty new members to the
commission. For the first time women and married couples were included. The
committee, now fifty-eight strong, met for the fourth time from March 25 to
28, 1965. On March 25, historian John Noonan, author of Contraception, spent
two hours reviewing how the Catholic Church’s views of marriage, love, and
marital intimacy had gone through significant changes over the centuries.
Upon learning how the church’s teaching on marriage had developed
over the centuries, some members of the commission realized that there
could still be further development. But the traditionalists, including one of
the commission’s new members, John Ford, an American Jesuit, vigorously
opposed any idea of development. The Spanish Jesuit, Marcelino Zalba,
declared, “We stand before a practically uninterrupted tradition” and then
vehemently argued in favor of the teaching that procreation was the primary
end of marriage.39 Father Ford agreed with Zalba: “This prescription [against
contraception] is in full force now as it was before, and so it will be tomorrow
and forever, because it is not a mere human enactment but the expression of
a natural and divine law.”40
Father Bernard Häring and others countered by arguing that infallibil-
ity does not pertain to interpretations of natural law, but only to matters of
divine revelation. Häring declared that while marriage as a whole has to be
open to the procreation of children, this did not mean that every act of marital
intercourse between husband and wife had to be open to the possibility of
conception.41 Patrick and Patricia Crowley, an American couple, spoke on
behalf of thousands of Catholics in the Christian Family Movement. They
wanted an expanded theology of marriage that stressed the positive values of
married love.42
The Fourth Session of the Council

The fourth and final session of the Second Vatican Council began in the fall of
1965. Even though Pope Paul VI had excluded the bishops from the process
of reforming the church’s teaching on birth regulation, their Pastoral Consti-
tution on the Church in the Modern World made an enormous contribution to
a positive development of church teaching concerning marital relations.
Promulgated on December 7, 1965, Gaudium et Spes (the Constitution’s
Latin title) consisted of two main parts. The preface to the second part, “Some
Problems of Special Urgency,” stated that “there were a number of particularly

urgent needs characterizing the present age.”43 The bishops considered those ur-
gent needs “in the light of the gospel and of human experience.”44 This exami-
nation of needs in the light “of human experience” was unexpected. Churchmen
had long viewed human experience as an unreliable guide in the search for truth
because such experience was “subjective.” Now, however, the bishops made it
known that they would take into consideration the data supplied by such human
sciences as history, anthropology, sociology, psychology, medicine, etc. Mar-
riage was the very first “urgent need” the bishops examined.
THE PASTORAL CONSTITUTION:

FOUR SIGNIFICANT CONTRIBUTIONS
Having considered what married couples felt, feared, experienced, endured,

and hoped for, the council members made four significant contributions to the
church’s theology of marriage. First, the bishops did not repeat the ancient
distinction that Ambrose, Augustine, Thomas Aquinas, Pope Pius XI, and
Pope Pius XII and other churchmen had made between the primary end (the
procreation and education of children) and the secondary ends of marriage
(mutual assistance and the alleviation of concupiscence). The bishops simply
stated: “By their very nature, the institution of matrimony itself and conjugal
love are ordained for the procreation and education of children, and find in
them their ultimate crown.”45 In stating that marriage was a matter of both
the expression of love and the procreation of children, the bishops did not
designate either purpose as primary or secondary.46
The second significant contribution occurred when the bishops referred to
marriage as a “covenant” rather than a contract. Marriage was described as
an “intimate partnership of married life and love . . . rooted in the conjugal
covenant of irrevocable personal consent.”47 Since the relationship between
Christ and his church is not a contract but a covenant, the language of cov-
enant was considered a far better way to refer to the relationship between
husband and wife.
Some bishops wanted to include canon law’s definition of marriage as a
contract in which spouses exchanged the right to use each other’s bodies for
acts apt for generating offspring.48 Their request was denied. The reasons
given for that denial were: 1) juridical language was not conducive to a pasto-
ral approach; 2) such language was humiliating; and, 3) the idea of “a right to
the body” came from a time when wives were regarded as possessions.49 Most
importantly, the majority of bishops recognized that “covenant” corresponded
“to an understanding of marital intercourse as mutual self-giving.”50
170 Chapter 20
The Council’s Endorsement of “Responsible Parenthood”

The third significant contribution made by the bishops was their recognition
that parents sometimes needed to limit the number of their children in order
to raise them properly. Parents not only cooperated with the love of God in
bringing children into the world, but they were also “the interpreters of that
love.”51 So, when it came to the question of how many offspring parents
would bring into the world, the parents should “thoroughly take into account
both their own welfare and that of their children, those already born and those
which may be foreseen.”52 While recognizing that “children are the supreme
gift of marriage,”53 the bishops also perceived that married couples some-
times found “themselves in circumstances where at least temporarily the size
of their families should not be increased.”54
Affirming that “the task of transmitting human life” was the “proper
mission” of parents,55 the bishops also stated that the number of children
could make “the faithful exercise of love and the full intimacy of their lives
. . . hard to maintain.”56 The traditional language promoting the sacrifice of
sexual desire did not appear. Instead, the conciliar bishops acknowledged
that the hardship of breaking off “the intimacy of married life” sometimes
“imperiled” marital fidelity and not infrequently “ruined” the “fruitfulness”
of married life.57
At Last! Church Teaching Recognizes the Value of Sexual Loving

The fourth significant contribution to the Catholic Church’s teaching on mar-
riage is found in the bishops’ adoption of an attitude of unconditional accep-
tance concerning marital intercourse. Taking an idea found in Pope Pius XI’s
encyclical, Casti Connubii, the conciliar bishops developed the view that mar-
riage was a “community of love.”58 They described sexual intercourse as “that
human act whereby spouses mutually bestow and accept each other.”59 In that
“community of love” marital intercourse has a most significant role: “Thus
a man and a woman, who by the marriage covenant of conjugal love ‘are no
longer two, but one flesh’ (Matt. 19:6), render mutual help and service to each
other through an intimate union of their persons and of their actions.”60
By stressing the centrality of conjugal love, the conciliar bishops promoted
the long-neglected view of marriage as a source of intimacy and loving
communion. For nearly eighteen centuries churchmen had often used the
Scriptures to exalt celibacy and depreciate marital intercourse. At the Second
Vatican Council the leaders of the Catholic Church turned in a new direction:
“The biblical Word of God several times urges the betrothed and the married
to nourish and develop their wedlock by pure conjugal love and undivided
mutual affection.”61
Affirming the personalist perspectives expressed so well by Dr. Dietrich

von Hildebrand and Rev. Herbert Doms, the bishops declared that the love of
husband and wife “leads the spouses to a free and mutual gift of themselves,
a gift proving itself by gentle affection and by deed.”62 The bishops praised
the power and purpose of sexual intimacy by teaching that spousal love “is
uniquely expressed and perfected through the marital act.”63 There were no
references to marital intercourse as a way to alleviate concupiscence or as a
way to render the marriage debt. Instead, marital acts were acknowledged
to be “noble and worthy” actions that signified and promoted “that mutual
self-giving by which spouses enrich each other with a joyful and a thank-
ful will.”64 The church’s leaders were encouraging husbands and wives to
express and develop their love for each other by engaging in acts of marital
intercourse!
This encouragement can be said to represent a 180-degree turn from nearly
eighteen centuries of putting down the sexual union of spouses. Thus, the
bishops reclaimed the biblical attitude of total acceptance. God created us as
sexual beings and this is a reality to be accepted “with a joyful and thankful
will.” In their affirmation of the goodness of marital sexuality the bishops
of the Second Vatican Council also provided an authentic “spirituality” of
marital intercourse. They wrote: “Christ the Lord abundantly blessed this
many-faceted love, welling up as it does from the fountain of divine love and
structured as it is on the model of His union with the Church.”65
The Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World was an
amazing doctrinal advancement. For some eighteen centuries the men who
led the church had overlooked the message that the sexual acts of married
partners symbolized the union of Christ and his church (Eph. 5: 22–33). In
1965, the leaders of the Catholic Church belatedly realized that in the sacra-
ment of marriage the risen Christ lives in both husband and wife in order to
enrich the holiness of their lives.
Nevertheless, the Papal Commission on Family, Population, and Birth was
still at work. The pope awaited his commission’s recommendations and the
faithful of the Catholic Church waited for the pope’s final words.
NOTES
1. See James A. Brundage, Law, Sex and Christian Society in Medieval Europe
(Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1987), 5.
2. Giuseppe Alberigo, ed., History of Vatican II, Vol. I (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis
Books, 1997), 251.
3. Alberigo, History of Vatican II, 254.
172 Chapter 20

8. Robert Blair Kaiser, The Politics of Sex and Religion (Kansas City, Mo.:
Leaven Press, 1985), 39.
9. Edward Stourton, Absolute Truth: The Struggle for Meaning in Today’s
Catholic Church (New York: TV Books, 2000), 72.
11. Kaiser, The Politics of Sex and Religion, 44–45.
12. Kaiser, The Politics of Sex and Religion, 45.
14. Robert McClory, The Turning Point (New York: Crossroad Publishing Com-
pany, 1995), 50.
15. McClory, The Turning Point, 54.
18. Franz Böckle, “Bibliographical Survey on the Question of Birth Control,” in
Concilium, Vol. 5, no. 1, ed. Franz Böckle (London: Burns and Oates, May, 1965),
53.
19. Böckle, “Bibliographical Survey on the Question of Birth Control,” 53.
20. Xavier Rynne, Vatican Council II (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux,
1968), 365.
21. Rynne, Vatican Council II, 365.
34. Rynne, Vatican Council II, 369–70.
36. McClory, The Turning Point, 60–61.
43. Walter Abbott, The Documents of Vatican II (New York: The America Press,
1966), #46, 248.
44. Abbott, The Documents of Vatican II, #46, 248.
46. Bernard Häring, “Part II, Chapter 1, “Fostering the Nobility of Marriage and
the Family,” in Herbert Vorgrimler, ed., Commentary on the Documents of Vatican
II, Vol. 5 (New York: Herder and Herder, 1969), 234.
48. Häring, in Vorgrimler, Commentary on the Documents of Vatican II, Vol. V,
233.
233.
233.
53. Abbott, The Documents of Vatican II, #50, 253–54.
21
The Postconciliar Work of the
“Birth Control Commission” and
Its Culmination in Humanae Vitae
BEHIND THE SCENES
While the council’s bishops were completing the final draft of the text deal-
ing with marriage in November 1965, Father John Ford, S.J., met with Pope
Paul VI. Ford reported that the draft of the bishops’ document, The Pastoral
Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, implied that contracep-
tion was not intrinsically evil. If the bishops’ text were approved, said Ford,
it would promote immorality among the weak and shake the faith of the
strong.1
About the same time, Cardinal Alfredo Ottaviani was at work discounting
the doctrinal authority of The Pastoral Constitution. He declared that the 1930
papal encyclical, Casti Connubii, with its categorical rejection of all methods
of contraception, was superior to the Council’s Pastoral Constitution because
Casti Connubii was “the milk of pure doctrine” while the council’s document
was “only a pastoral text.”2
THE SIXTH AND FINAL MEETING OF THE

PAPAL COMMISSION ON BIRTH CONTROL
The papal commission met for their sixth and final time from April to June
1966. The members of the Commission were then meeting in specialized
groups. In May a group of nineteen theologians were asked to vote on two
questions: 1) Is the teaching of Casti Connubii irreformable? 2) Is artificial
contraception an intrinsically evil violation of natural law?3 To both questions
fifteen theologians voted “no” and four voted “yes.”
175
176 Chapter 21
Another specialized group, the physicians, saw a need for a change in the
church’s teaching. Dr. Albert Görres of the University of Mainz objected to
the traditional processes used to decide “questions of the greatest importance
for life.”4 With regard to the relevant encyclicals, he pointed out that sig-
nificant theological issues had “been decided apparently without theological
discussion and according to the opinions of one or two of the Holy Father’s
private theologians or of a curial authority.”5
Görres also objected to the claim that moral theologians had “unani-
mously” opposed contraception through the centuries. While Catholic theolo-
gians were on record as opposing contraception, Görres pointed out that they
had never truly discussed the morality of contraception. From the thirteenth
century through the twentieth the priests belonging to religious orders and
congregations did almost all the writing dealing with marital sexuality.6 After
the conclusion of the Council of Trent in 1563, writers and teachers of marital
ethics in religious orders found themselves under a double censorship. One
form of censorship came from the local bishop and the other from the supe-
rior of their religious order.7 A bishop or a superior of a religious order could
remove any theologian from his teaching position if that theologian expressed
an opinion that did not echo the traditional point of view. Under such condi-
tions the power to articulate the Catholic Church’s doctrinal position went to
“an assortment of timid, often scrupulous ultraconservatives” who embraced
any argument that supported the old, foregone conclusions.8 Görres also
pointed out that historical distortions of marital morality had first come from
Stoicism, Platonism, and Manichaeanism and that these distortions were still
more or less active in the church.9
Fathers Ford and Zalba argued in favor of reasserting the teaching in Pope
Pius XI’s Casti Connubii. Father Ford reasoned that the encyclical had to be
correct in its condemnation of artificial birth control, or else it would mean
that the Holy Spirit would have been with the Anglican bishops when they
permitted the use of contraception in 1930.10 Father Zalba, taking into account
the church’s rule forbidding the use of contraceptives, asked: “What then
about the millions of souls which according to the norms of Casti Connubii
we have damned to hell, if those norms were not valid?”11 Hearing this, Pa-
tricia Crowley then asked Zalba: “Do you really believe that God has carried
out all your orders?”12
Married Experts Join the Debate

Dr. Donald Barrett noted that many Catholics dutifully accepted their
church’s rules for trying to space the births of children. While some spouses
accepted rhythm as a means of fostering discipline, far fewer said that rhythm
The Postconciliar Work of the “Birth Control Commission” 177
fostered married love. 63 percent of the three thousand Christian Family

Movement couples were of the opinion that “practicing rhythm harmed their
marriages in varying degrees because of tension, frustration, sexual strain,
loss of spontaneity, arguments, irritability, discouragement, insecurity, [and]
fear of pregnancy.”13 One anguished wife and mother reported: “I bend over
backwards to avoid raising false hopes on my husband’s part. . . . I stiffen
at a kiss on the cheek, instantly reminded that I must be discreet. I withdraw
in other ways too, afraid to be an interesting companion, gay or witty or
charming, hesitant about being sympathetic or understanding, almost wish-
ing I could be invisible. . . . And I wonder why I can’t shake off the fear and
uncertainty during the rest of the month.”14
Colette Potvin, one of the commission’s five women, stated that “[c]hildren
are a normal consequence of our love and not the goal. The physiological in-
tegrity of the conjugal act is less important than the repercussions of that love
on the couple and on their family.”15 She then stated that the “conjugal act is
the principal way we have of showing our love for each other.”16
Patty Crowley concluded that it was not birth control but the rhythm
method itself that was “unnatural.” Respondents to the Christian Family
Movement’s questionnaire repeatedly “pointed out that nature prepares a
woman at the time of ovulation to have the greatest urge to mate with her
husband.”17 That is the time when a woman’s husband wants to sexually
respond to his wife because she desires his love. “Yet month after month she
must say no to her husband because it is the wrong date on the calendar or
the thermometer reading isn’t right.”18
Some Clerical Reaction

The lack of objectivity in remarks such as those made by Mrs. Potvin and
Mrs. Crowley disturbed some of the clerical members of the commission.
They thought that information supplied by the laity should be dismissed be-
cause it could not be proved.19 On the day following Mrs. Potvin’s remarks,
Father Stanislas de Lestapis, S.J., complained that some members of the com-
mission were “idolizing” married people. He declared that “the couple has
become a state of grace and contraception their sacrament and the result is
. . . a devaluation of procreation.”20
And so it was that the witness of the church’s “lower-archy”21 (the mar-
ried laity) would be dismissed. Monsignor George A. Kelly stated that he
saw little value in having “social scientists” and “lay witnesses” on the papal
commission. He rejected the testimony of married laity on the grounds that
“they could speak only about questions irrelevant to the moral determination
the original Commission was called upon to make.”22 Rev. Kelly also opined
178 Chapter 21
that the “mixed assortment of theological amateurs” had turned Pope Paul’s
commission “into a debating society arrogating to itself the function of refor-
mulating Catholic doctrine in political caucus.”23
More Behind-the-Scene Maneuvers

In May 1966, the pope demoted most of the fifty-eight members on the papal
commission to the rank of “expert.” When the newly demoted took a week’s
vacation, some of the remaining members met secretly. Opposing any change
in the church’s doctrine, Father John Ford, S.J., and Dr. Germain Grisez, an
American philosopher, produced a document stating that the church could not
change her teaching. This document carried forward the gist of the traditional
theological perception of marriage by declaring that there was no necessary
relationship between marital sex and marital love: “Conjugal love is above
all spiritual (if the love is genuine) and it requires no specific carnal gesture,
much less its repetition in some determined frequency.”24 To strengthen that
conclusion, the document noted that “a father and a daughter can love each
other without the necessity of carnal gestures.”25 While this was an irrel-
evant comparison because father and daughter are not husband and wife, it
nevertheless serves to indicate the desperation in Ford and Grisez’s attempt
to shore up the traditional opposition between the carnal and the spiritual
dimensions of marriage.
Rev. Ford argued that the role of the Holy Spirit was to prevent church
authorities from making errors in their teaching. He pointed out that if Pope
Paul VI did not declare that all contraception was intrinsically evil, “it would
have to be acknowledged that the Holy Spirit in 1930, in 1951 and in 1958
assisted Protestant churches and that for half a century Pius XI, Pius XII and
a great part of the Catholic hierarchy did not protest against a very serious
error”—namely, the condemnation “most imprudently, under the pain of eter-
nal punishment, thousands upon thousands of human acts [of contraception]
which are now approved.”26
The Birth Control Commission’s Official Report and

the So-Called “Minority Report”
The fact is that “Responsible Parenthood” was the only official report given
to Pope Paul VI. However, commission members De Lestapis, Visser, and
Zalba had signed the document that had been secretly written by Ford and
Grisez. When Cardinal Ottaviani gave the report to the pope, the cardinal
represented the document as “the minority report.” This maneuver turned the
single official report of the papal commission into a less impressive “major-
ity report.” This ploy of “minority” and “majority” reports would eventually
enable Pope Paul to reject the recommendations of his own Pontifical Com-
mission.
The sole original report, “Responsible Parenthood,” stated that the
church’s traditional teaching on marriage “developed in the argument with
heretics such as the Gnostics, Manicheans and later the Cathari, all of whom
condemned procreation . . . as something evil.”27 The resulting doctrinal tra-
dition “intended to protect two fundamental values: the good of procreation
and the rectitude of marital intercourse.”28 This statement can well serve as
a succinct summary of the origins of the church’s doctrine on marriage and
Outlining a wide perspective that might help Pope Paul VI find a way out of
that current impasse, the commission’s theologians adopted an approach simi-
lar to the one taken by the bishops at the Second Vatican Council. Examining
contemporary issues “in the light of the gospel and of human experience,” the
authors of “Responsible Parenthood” declared: “The facts which throw light
on today’s world suggest that it is not to contradict the genuine sense of this
[the church’s] tradition and the purpose of the previous doctrinal condemna-
tions if we speak of the regulation of conception using means, human and
decent, ordered to favoring fecundity in the totality of married life.”29
The reference to “human experience” would include the discoveries of the
sciences, thus providing the Catholic Church with information unknown to
church leaders in previous ages. Some of the new information included “so-
cial changes in marriage and the family, especially in the role of the woman;
lowering of the infant mortality rates; new bodies of knowledge in biology,
psychology, sexuality and demography.”30 It was no longer necessary for
parents to produce six children in order to have two of them survive to pro-
vide for their parents in old age. For the 40 percent of women who had an
irregular menstrual cycle, the rhythm method produced great hardship. There
seemed to be only one function of the clitoris: to provide the woman with
sexual pleasure.31
Perhaps the most significant “new fact” was that for the first time in the
history of the Catholic Church some of her leaders and theologians had lis-
tened to the testimony of the married laity. The writers of “Responsible Par-
enthood” declared: “There must be considered the sense of the faithful: ac-
cording to it, condemnation of a couple to a long and often heroic abstinence
as a means to regulate conception, cannot be founded on the truth.”32 The crux
of the commission’s report held that the morality of the marital act did not
“depend upon the direct fecundity of each and every particular act.”33
180 Chapter 21
1966 TO 1968:
“A TIME OF STUDY AND REFLECTION”
After the council ended in 1965, Catholic married couples began to draw their
own conclusions about the moral use of certain forms of artificial contracep-
tion. If both the unitive and the procreative purposes of marital intercourse
were equally good, and if spouses needed to space the births of their children
more effectively, couples reasoned that the procreative purpose might be
temporarily put aside when they engaged in acts of marital union. By the
mid-1960s there was some doubt about the church’s rule banning all forms
of artificial contraception. If moral theology’s maxim “a doubtful law does
not bind” is correct, then spouses could love each other without calendars or
thermometers or the fear of hell.
With the increasing uncertainty about what was the church’s position on
birth control, Pope Paul VI needed to do something. On October 29, 1966,
exactly fifteen years after Pope Pius XII had addressed the Italian midwives
about the use of the rhythm method, Pope Paul addressed the Italian Society
of Obstetrics and Gynecology. He told the society that he could not make a
definite ruling on the report of the birth control commission. Then he declared
that “the magisterium of the church” was “in a moment of study and reflec-
tion,” and not in “a state of doubt.”34 The pope concluded: “The norm now
taught by the Church . . . demands generous and faithful observance.”35
ANOTHER PERTINENT STORY
In the fall of 1966 I was the only layperson taking Rev. Dr. Carl Peter’s
course on the ecclesiological aspects of the act of faith in Catholic Universi-
ty’s School of Theology. Discussing the papal statement of October 29, Rev.
Peter pointed out that there are important differences within “the magiste-
rium” (the official teaching) of the church. While teaching belonging to “the
deposit of faith”36 cannot change, some official teaching can be changed.
The Second Vatican Council dealt with such distinctions when it taught
that the church is always in need of “continual reformation.” The conciliar
bishops pointed out that, “if the influence of events or of the times has led
to deficiencies in conduct, in church discipline, or even in the formulation
of doctrine (which must be carefully distinguished from the deposit itself of
faith), these should be appropriately rectified at the proper moment.”37 For
example, Pope Gregory XVI declared, in his 1832 encyclical Mirari Vos,
that “freedom of conscience” was “an absurd and erroneous doctrine.”38 That
papal teaching was “rectified” in 1965 when the Second Vatican Council’s
Declaration on Religious Liberty held that freedom of conscience was a basic

human right.39
Rev. Peter said that Catholic leaders may have made a wrong assumption
about Pope Pius XI’s teaching on the intrinsic evil of contraception. While
some may have assumed that the papal teaching belonged in the category of
the “deposit of faith,” it may well have been that Casti Connubii’s condemna-
tion of all forms of artificial contraception belonged in the realm of reform-
able doctrine. Upon hearing this, one of the priests was visibly shaken. His
voice quivered as he objected to the notion that the Catholic Church could
change its teaching on the birth control issue: “I’ve been hearing confessions
for twenty-five years, and I always told my penitents that using contraception
was a mortal sin. I told them that they would go to hell if they died without
absolution from their sins.” He then asked: “What would happen to all those
people who had come to me in confession?”
Father Peter asked him: “Why should God judge them by your standards?”
The priest replied that his standards were those of the Catholic Church and
then asked: “How could the church make such a mistake for so many years?”
Father Peter answered: “If the teaching church has made such a mistake, it
would not be the first time.” He then pointed out for nearly three centuries,
roughly between 300 and 600, the leaders of the church taught that grave sin
committed after baptism could be forgiven only once. Attempting to defer
reconciliation until they were dying, many Christians died before they could
be reconciled.
NEWS FLASH!
On April 19, 1967, The National Catholic Reporter published both the com-
mission’s official report as well as the document described as “the minority
report.” The publication of “the minority report” interfered with Cardinal
Ottaviani’s plans to use Ford’s arguments as the basis for a future papal text
demonstrating that all forms of birth control were intrinsically evil.
Cardinal Ottaviani then called for a meeting with the four signers of the
“minority report.” These were the commission members who opposed all
change in the church’s teaching. The other fifteen members of the commission
were not invited. Together with the pope’s theologian, Carlo Columbo, the
four men drafted a fifteen-page document and gave it to Pope Paul VI. This
document argued that the teaching of Casti Connubii had to stand because a
change in its teaching would have the effect of undermining the authority of
church (papal) teaching.40 Their draft also stated that a change in the traditional
Catholic teaching on procreation would encourage selfishness and hedonism
182 Chapter 21
in married couples.41 But this draft was so rigid that even Ottaviani’s Holy Of-
fice rejected it as unsuitable.42
In the next attempt to produce the document that would become the 1968
papal encyclical, two groups of ghostwriters were put to work, neither group
knowing of the existence of the other. One group worked out of the Vatican
secretary of state’s office and the other labored under the direction of Cardi-
nal Ottaviani’s Holy Office. Each group worked on different portions of what
eventually would become Pope Paul VI’s 1968 encyclical, Humanae Vitae.
Word of these writing efforts leaked out to the other cardinals and bishops
who had been official members of the papal commission. Cardinal Suenens
tried to inform the pope that a “traditionalist” document on the birth control
issue would hurt the church by creating a “credibility chasm.” On August 29,
1967, Suenens was rebuffed by a letter stating that “the sovereign pontiff be-
lieves that the observations favoring a new thesis . . . do not seem sufficiently
convincing.”43 Fifteen of the nineteen members of the Papal Commission on
the Study of Population, Family, and Births found themselves completely
shut out. Apparently, more than three years of the pope’s own commission’s
work had been dismissed.
THE PAPAL ENCYCLICAL: HUMANAE VITAE
It appears that the arguments coming from Ford, Grisez, Visser, and Zalba
were “sufficiently convincing.” The long-awaited papal encyclical appeared
on July 29, 1968. Pope Paul VI addressed his letter to church leaders, the la-
ity, and “all men of good will.”44
In 1965, the bishops of the Second Vatican Council had recognized the
significance of marital intercourse as an expression of spousal love. In 1968
the pope asked if that “new” recognition warranted a change in the church’s
teaching regarding the purposes of marital intercourse. Pope Paul answered:
“No.”45 The pope declared: “The Church . . . teaches that each and every
marriage act must remain open to the transmission of life.”46 Monsignor
Ferdinado Lambruschini, the theologian who introduced the encyclical to
the public, referred to this statement as “the center, the nucleus, the apex, the
heart and the key of the encyclical.”47 That meant the end of any talk about the
purpose of procreation pertaining to the whole of conjugal life. Procreation
had to be related to each single act of marital intercourse.
The Encyclical’s New Teaching

Having asserted that every act of marital intercourse had to be “open” to
the transmission of new life, the pope then gave a new theological rationale
for this assertion. That rationale was “the inseparable connection, willed by
God and unable to be broken by man on his own initiative, between the two
meanings of the conjugal act: the unitive meaning and the procreative mean-
ing.”48
Never in the history of the church had any of her leaders taught that there
was an “inseparable connection” between the unitive meaning and the pro-
creative meaning of marital intercourse. The pope’s assertion was truly a
“novum,” a new theological concept. With the assertion that all marital acts
had to “remain open to the transmission of life,” the church’s chief teacher
was able to offer a new explanation for the malice of artificial birth control.
Contraception broke the relationship between the expression of marital love
and procreation. This idea of an inseparable connection between the expres-
sion of spousal love and procreation had come from Bishop Karol Wojtyla,
the man who, in ten more years, would become pope.
“Paul himself labored over the final version, removing specific references
to mortal sin and adding a paragraph about tolerance and charity towards
sinners.”49 Pope Paul did not use Pope Pius XI’s depiction of the use of a
contraceptive device as a “criminal abuse.”50
The Old and the New

Thus the justification for engaging in the marital act continued to be the
possibility of procreation. The encyclical argued that if the church permitted
couples to engage in marital intercourse while using methods that prevented
conception, terrible things would happen. A “wide and easy road” to marital
infidelity would be opened, and the husband would tend to “lose respect
for the woman.”51 The husband, “no longer caring for her physical and psy-
chological equilibrium, may come to the point of considering her as a mere
instrument of selfish enjoyment.”52 Thus it would seem that the two “p”
words, procreation and pleasure, the latter often called “selfish enjoyment,”
were still the entangled factors underpinning the church’s teaching on marital
intercourse.
Nevertheless, in the twentieth century of the church’s existence, a papal
encyclical formally recognized that one of the purposes of the marital act was
to express love sexually. This was new.
REACTION TO HUMANAE VITAE
Pope Paul’s encyclical caused rejoicing in conservative circles, stunned the

leaders of various national conferences of bishops, exasperated the members
of the disbanded papal commission, disheartened those who had followed
184 Chapter 21
the progress of the Second Vatican Council, and greatly disappointed untold
members of the married laity. After the encyclical’s promulgation, national
gatherings of bishops met to decide how to interpret the papal teaching for
Catholics living in the locales they shepherded. In an analysis of the reaction
of the leaders of the world’s Catholic dioceses, Philip Kaufman, a Benedic-
tine monk, pointed out that the bishops of 262 dioceses (17 percent) accepted
Humanae Vitae totally, the bishops of 428 dioceses (28 percent) were uncer-
tain in their support of the encyclical, and the bishops of 866 dioceses (56
percent) mitigated their reception of the encyclical.53
The American bishops produced a pastoral letter entitled Human Life in
Our Day. On the one hand, they openly supported the pope’s encyclical. On
the other hand, they recognized the possibility of “theological dissent” from
church teaching “if the reasons are serious and well-founded, if the manner of
the dissent does not question or impugn the teaching authority of the church
and is such as not to give scandal.”54
Reception of Humanae Vitae

Several years earlier, when the papal commission was active, Dr. Albert
Görres pointed out that significant theological issues had “been decided ap-
parently without theological discussion and according to the opinions of one
or two of the Holy Father’s private theologians or of a curial authority.”55 His-
tory had repeated itself when this papal encyclical had been written in secret
by a small number of like-minded theologians. While it had the signature of
the pope, the letter was promulgated without the benefit of careful discussion
and discerning argument. John Noonan observed that “it is . . . surprising
that what is alleged to be the design of God could only be discovered in the
utmost secrecy.”56
At the Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C., Father Charles
Curran met with nine other theologians in order to draft a response to the
papal letter. While noting that the pope expressed “many positive values con-
cerning marriage,” the theologians regretted that the encyclical gave “no real
importance” to “the witness of the life of the church in its totality.”57
Their statement noted the following “defects” in the encyclical: “over-
emphasis on the biological aspects of conjugal relations as ethically norma-
tive; undue stress on sexual acts and on the faculty of sex viewed in itself
apart from the person and the couple; a static world-view which downplays
the historical and evolutionary character of humanity . . . unfounded assump-
tions about ‘the evil consequences of methods of artificial birth control’;
indifference to Vatican II’s assertion that prolonged sexual abstinence may
cause ‘faithfulness to be imperiled and its quality of fruitfulness to be ru-
ined.’”58 The statement was immediately circulated and by the next morning,
eighty-seven theologians had signed it. In the next few weeks another six
hundred theologians from around the world added their signatures.
Patrick and Patricia Crowley regretted that the pope had agreed with such
a small minority.59 Colette Potvin asked: “Could there not be some trust in
a Christian couple’s judgment to decide what is good and what they must
do?”60 Thomas Burch, another lay member of the commission, remarked:
“[T]he encyclical for me was the last straw. All that work wasted! I could see
no continuity, no connection whatsoever between what the Commission did
and Humanae Vitae.”61
Cardinal Suenens, outspoken leader of conciliar reform, regretted that Pope
Paul had not acting in concert with his brother bishops on the birth control
issue. In 1972, desiring to retire from his role as spokesman for controversial
change, the Belgian prelate took on a new role as a leader in the Catholic
Charismatic Renewal Movement.62
OUTCOMES
In the summer of 1968 the “traditionalists” had their triumph. But as Cardi-
nal Suenens had foreseen, the price to be paid for that triumph was the loss
of the papacy’s credibility. In 1993, twenty-five years after the encyclical
was issued, a New York Times survey found that nine out of ten Catholics
held that “someone who practices artificial birth control can still be a good
Catholic.”63
As for Pope Paul VI, he never wrote another encyclical during the ten
remaining years of his papacy. He prayed the rosary daily as he walked the
Vatican gardens, seemingly identifying with the first sorrowful mystery, Je-
sus’ agony in the garden. At the shrine of St. Peter, now and then, Pope Paul
could be seen weeping, presumably “over the state of the church.”64
NOTES
1. Robert McClory, The Turning Point (New York: The Crossroad Publishing Co.,
1995), 82.
2. Peter Hebblethwaite, Paul VI: The First Modern Pope (New York: Paulist
Press, 1993), 470.
4. Robert Kaiser, The Politics of Sex and Religion (Kansas City, Mo.: Leaven
Press, 1985), 138.
186 Chapter 21

1965), 576.
10. Bernard Häring, My Witness for the Church, trans. Leonard Swindler (New
York: Paulist Press, 1992), 74.
11. Häring, My Witness for the Church, 74.
12. Häring, My Witness for the Church, 74.
19. Hebblethwaite, Paul VI, 473.
22. George A. Kelly, Keeping the Church Catholic with John Paul II (New York:
Doubleday, 1992), 36.
23. Kelly, Keeping the Church Catholic with John Paul II, 36.
36. See Walter Abbott, “The Decree on Ecumenism,” in The Documents of Vati-
can II (New York: The America Press, 1966), #6, 350.
37. Abbott, “The Decree on Ecumenism,” in The Documents of Vatican II, #6,
350.
38. William J. Bausch, Pilgrim Church (Mystic, Conn.: Twenty-Third Publica-
tions, 1989, 1991), 320.
39. Abbott, “Declaration on Religious Freedom,” in The Documents of Vatican II,
#6, 684–85.
44. Pope Paul VI, On the Regulation of Birth (Humanae Vitae) (Washington, D.C.:
The United States Catholic Conference, 1968), #1, 1.
45. Pope Paul VI, On the Regulation of Birth (Humanae Vitae), #3, 2–3.
46. Pope Paul VI, On the Regulation of Birth (Humanae Vitae), #11, 7.
50. Pope Pius XI, On Chaste Marriage, in Michael J. Byrnes, trans., Matrimony
(Boston: The Daughters of St. Paul, 1963), 247.
53. Philip S. Kaufman, O.S.B., Why You Can Disagree and Still Remain a Faithful
Catholic (New York: Crossroad Publishing Company, 1993), 77.
54. National Council of Catholic Bishops, Human Life in Our Day (Washington,
D.C.: The United States Catholic Conference, 1968), Pastoral letter issued on No-
vember 15, 1968, 18.
56. “Theologians’ Statement,” National Catholic Reporter, August 7, 1968, cited
in Daniel Callahan, The Catholic Case for Contraception (Toronto: The Macmillan
Company, 1969), 68.
57. “Theologians’ Statement,” cited in Callahan, The Catholic Case for Contra-
ception, 68.
58. “Theologians’ Statement,” cited in Callahan, The Catholic Case for Contra-
ception, 69
63. Peter Steinfels, A People Adrift (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2003), 258.
64. Hebblethwaite, Paul VI, 594.
22
Pope John Paul II:
Old Assertions and New Perceptions
INTRODUCTION
Born in Poland in 1920, Karol Wojtyla lost his mother when he was nine. His
older brother died of scarlet fever three years later. After that, “the boy was
left only with his father, a taciturn military man, who kept his son to a rigidly
structured schedule that permitted but three pleasures: study . . . soccer, and
prayer.”1 In subsequent years Karol Wojtyla developed a deep devotion to the
Blessed Virgin Mary, studied philosophy, resisted the Nazi occupation, acted
on the stage, and practiced a Tridentine Catholicism that was “dependent on
the training of the human will to create a hero who always does what is most
difficult.”2
Bishop Wojtyla participated in the Second Vatican Council, served on the
papal birth control commission, and was elected pope in October 1978. Dur-
ing his twenty-six-year papacy John Paul II traveled the world as an ambassa-
dor of the Roman Catholic Church, wooed the youth of many nations, wrote
numerous encyclicals, and raised nearly a thousand persons to sainthood.
BISHOP WOJTYLA’S VIEWS ON MARITAL INTERCOURSE
Karol Wojtyla was ordained a priest in 1946. In his pastoral care for young
people Father Wojtyla stressed the interrelationship between sex, love, and
marriage. His book, Love and Responsibility (1960), manifests how this fu-
ture pope worked out a theology of marriage based on the virtues related to
married love. He extolled commitment, tenderness, responsibility, humility,
chastity, and charity. Echoing St. Thomas Aquinas, Bishop Karol declared
189
190 Chapter 22
that if love is to bring about an authentic union of a man and a woman, then
love “must be firmly based on the affirmation of the value of the person.”3
On the one hand, the “personalism” advocated by German, French, and Polish
theologians was foundational to Karol Wojtyla’s approach to marital love. On
the other hand, the pope put forward an “absolute position” condemning birth
control, which he “proposed as coming from the hand of God.”4
An Important Distinction
Wojtyla’s distinction between “carnal concupiscence” and “love of the body”
flows from his understanding of “the value of the person.” Carnal concupis-
cence is the drive that “seeks an outlet in ‘carnal love.’” But “love of the
body” is authentically human because the body of another is a basic “compo-
nent of the person” and as such can be “an object of love” for each spouse.5 In
this affirmation one can almost hear Adam’s shout of joy, “This one, at last,
is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh” (Gen. 2:23).
Concupiscence, however, “is a consistent tendency to see persons of the
other sex through the prism of sexuality alone, as ‘objects of potential enjoy-
ment.’”6 This kind of sexual desire merely seeks to enjoy the sexual values
and sensuous beauty of the other, thereby leading to the exploitation of those
sexual values without serious regard for the person. Though concupiscence
can draw people into physical intimacy, such desire is deficient because “it
does not unite a man and a woman as persons.”7 If there is no regard for the
true good of the person in the act of sexual union, there can be no true ex-
pression of love that “is oriented towards objective values.”8 Such objective
values are “the value of the person, which both partners in love affirm, and
the union of persons to which love leads.”9
Persons who recognize the goodness of sexual values may truly enjoy each
other sexually because each one perceives that the body of the other is “a
component of the person.” Thus the physical body of the spouse is “an object
of love only because of the value of the person.”10 Sensuality and emotional
feelings are perfectly acceptable when they are “absorbed in true love.”11
The Virtue of Chastity

The value of chastity can only be realized when each partner mutually and
lovingly wills the good of the beloved. Only when such love is present can
the objective demands of the “personalistic norm” be satisfied. That norm re-
quires “loving kindness” toward a person and rejects any form of “utilization”
of the person.12 It is precisely here that the virtue of chastity is applicable, for
it is the function of chastity “to free love from the utilitarian attitude” that
Pope John Paul II 191
would use the other simply as an object for one’s own enjoyment.13 Thus the
virtue of chastity plays a positive role in helping each spouse develop sexual
playfulness. This happens because chastity enables a lover to raise his or her
sexual responses to the attractions of the lover’s body to a level that also af-
firms “the value of the person in every situation.”14
Regarding Sexual Delight

Throughout the church’s long history most bishops discouraged spouses from
seeking sexual pleasure with each other. In a remarkable shift in attitude,
Bishop Karol Wojtyla advocated seeking sexual gratification in the marital
act. Love and Responsibility promoted equality between husband and wife,
offered accurate information about the way in which a woman can be brought
to experience orgasm, and spoke frankly about the importance of a husband’s
pleasing his wife sexually. With the “value of the person” as his basic prin-
ciple, Wojtyla asked the husband to “carefully observe the reactions of the
woman” so that she will “obtain natural gratification from the sexual act.”15
Bishop Wojtyla pointed out that sensual enjoyment in marriage is praisewor-
thy. Even if one’s sensuality reacts to the spouse’s body as a possible object of
use, the partner’s will “is fixed by love not on the exploitation but on the true
good of the other person.”16 In marriage the good of the other includes “shared
sexual enjoyment.”17 Thus Karol Wojtyla, more than any of his papal succes-
sors, accepted the way God created us as male and female, welcoming all the
emotional and sensual responses related to sexual experiences in marriage.
WOJTYLA’S MODIFIED STOICISM
Stoicism declared that the only justification for engaging in marital inter-
course was procreation. After calling the Stoic perspective “an exaggeratedly
strict ethical position,”18 Wojtyla proposed his own “strict ethical position” by
asserting that a couple may never morally engage in marital intercourse with-
out “the inner willingness to accept conception, should it occur.”19 Only the
willingness to accept the conception of a child “justifies (‘makes just’) sexual
intercourse between a married couple in their own eyes and before God the
Creator.”20 This stress on the readiness or willingness to accept conception
would eventually become the cornerstone of Pope Paul’s 1968 encyclical,
Humanae Vitae.
Wojtyla promoted his modified Stoicism by asserting that “the true great-
ness of the human person is manifested in the fact that sexual activity”
requires the “profound justification” of willingness to become parents.21 If,
192 Chapter 22
as Thomas Cahill wrote, Karol Wojtyla’s upbringing created “a hero who al-
ways does what is most difficult,”22 it might be suggested that Karol Wojtyla
hoped that married couples would follow in his footsteps.
According to Bishop Wojtyla, spouses engaging in marital intercourse
while using artificial means to exclude the possibility of conception would
be negating all love and reducing “the whole context of the marital act to
sexual enjoyment.”23 Here again the two “p” words were in play. Without the
openness to procreation, the spouses would merely be seeking the pleasure
of “sexual enjoyment.” In Bishop Wojtyla’s perspective, there can be no
“true union of persons” when spouses try to exclude the possibility of procre-
ation.24 He declares that if spouses are not willing to accept “the possibility
of paternity,” they “should refrain from intercourse.”25 It seems that control,
strength of will, and self-mastery should be the key characteristics governing
the sexual intimacies of married persons.
After Karol Wojtyla became pope, an old friend visited him. That friend
asked the pope to modify the church’s strict prohibition against birth control.
In a response that was a sign of things to come, the newly elected pope told
his friend, “I can’t change what I’ve been teaching all my life.”26
The First Married Saints?

Perhaps Pope John Paul’s stoical perspective on marital intercourse is mani-
fested in his choice of the first married couple to be beatified in the history
of the Catholic Church. Luigi Quattrocchi married twenty-year-old Maria
in 1905. They had four children, three entering religious life and the fourth
never marrying.27
Did Pope John Paul II choose Luigi and Maria Quattrocchi to be the first
married couple to attain beatification because they harbored Jewish people
from the Nazis during World War II? Or was it because they renounced mari-
tal relations after twenty-one years of marriage and lived the next twenty-five
years as brother and sister? At the time of their decision to abstain completely
from marital intercourse, Luigi was forty-six and Maria was forty-one.28
When Pope John Paul beatified the Quattrocchis in October 2001, he pre-
sented them as exemplars of married Catholics who “lived an ordinary life in
an extraordinary way.”29
CATHOLIC MARITAL DOCTRINE FOR FERTILE COUPLES
The starting point of Karol Wojtyla’s marital ethics is “the fact that a man
and a woman are persons, and that their love is a mutual relationship between
persons.”30 However, spouses may legitimately express their love sexually

only when “the possibility of paternity and maternity” is not “excluded when
intercourse takes place.”31
On the one hand, the author of Love and Responsibility (published in 1960)
was less strict than those church fathers who insisted that the only acceptable
motive for engaging in marital relations was that of producing offspring. On
the other hand, Wojtyla insisted that a spouse’s “acceptance that ‘I may be-
come a father’/ ‘I may become a mother’” is the justification of the marital
act.32 That acceptance puts the marital act on “the level of a true union of
persons.”33 But to engage in marital intercourse while taking steps to exclude
possible conception is to “deprive marital intercourse of the value of love and
leave it only the value of ‘enjoyment.’”34
In taking measures to prevent conception, the couple would be left only
with “the sexual act itself, or rather reciprocal sexual exploitation.”35 Thus
their marital act would be deprived “of the value of love.”36 By declaring
that “willingness for parenthood” is the “indispensable condition of love,”37
Bishop Wojtyla presented his theology of the basic purpose of marital rela-
tions for all married couples. In 1968 this view would end up as the central
assertion in Pope Paul VI’s encyclical, Humanae Vitae.
Trying to Resolve the Issue of Birth Regulation

The one “morally correct single solution to the problems of reproduction and
parenthood” permits spouses to become two in one flesh only as long as they
are willing to accept the parental consequences of their act.38 “In the absence”
of the willingness to conceive a child, “the man and the woman should refrain
from intercourse.”39
Karol Wojtyla recognized that refraining from intercourse might be dif-
ficult because “spouses grow accustomed to intercourse,” begin to enjoy
“sexual intercourse as a habit,” and experience “a constant inclination . . .
[and] a mutual need for intercourse.”40 Bishop Wojtyla conceded: “This being
so, the idea of refraining from intercourse inevitably runs into certain difficul-
ties and objections.”41 Nevertheless, Bishop Wojtyla stood by his variation on
the ancient Stoic and Augustinian formula—namely, marital intercourse has
to somehow be open to the generation of children.
THE POPE’S “THEOLOGY OF THE BODY”
Pope John Paul presented his theological perspective on “the nuptial meaning
of the body” in a series of 129 short talks given from September 5, 1979, to
194 Chapter 22
November 28, 1984. George Weigel, one of this pope’s biographers, referred
to the pope’s teaching on the body as “one of the boldest reconfigurations of
Catholic theology in centuries.”42 Others see it as a positive development in
the traditional context.
The pope began his presentation of his theology with the text, “It is not
good for the man to be alone. So God said, ‘I will make him a helper’” (Gen.
2:18). Augustine used this text when he declared that the only way a woman
could be a helper was bearing children.43 However, when John Paul reflected
on what he called the situation of “original solitude,” he recognized that the
woman “helped” Adam by offering him “the basic conditions that make it
possible to exist in a relationship of mutual giving.”44
According to Pope John Paul, the crux of Genesis 2:18 is the man-woman
relationship. The man realizes his essence “only by existing ‘with some-
one’—and even more deeply and completely—by existing ‘for someone.’”45
The two words, “alone” and “helper,” tell us that “both the relationship and
the communion of persons” are crucial for human beings.46 Man and woman
can experience the communion of persons only if there is “a relationship of
mutual gift.”47 In the act of intercourse sex and love combine in the mutual
gift of man and woman to each other.
It is the person’s masculinity or femininity that allows the man or woman
to give themselves as gift to the other. Thus, “masculinity and femininity—
namely, sex—is the original sign of a creative donation and an awareness on
the part of man, male-female, of a gift lived in an original way. Such is the
meaning with which sex enters the theology of the body.”48
The body has a “nuptial” meaning because the beginning of human
existence is connected with the revelation and discovery of sexual reci-
procity of man and woman.49 The conjugal unity of man and woman was
established in the assertion that the man leaves father and mother, joins his
body to his wife’s body and the two become one flesh (Gen. 2:24). Fol-
lowing this assertion is “the verse which testifies to the nakedness of both,
without mutual shame (Gen. 2:25).”50 The “nuptial” meaning of the body,
a meaning that springs from the God who is love, “becomes an experience
of mutual giving.”51 It can be said that in this assertion the pope was ex-
pressing an attitude of total acceptance of the way God created us as male
and female.
In his next general audience John Paul II spoke of the significance of the
nakedness of Adam and Eve: “Created by Love, endowed in their being with
masculinity and femininity, they are both ‘naked’ because they are free with
the freedom of the gift.”52 That gift is the ability to give themselves sexually
to each other in a love that “fulfills the meaning of being and existence.”53
With the insight that the body has a “nuptial meaning” John Paul recognized
that “love” is a worthy motive for spouses who wanted to give themselves to
each other in marital intercourse.
The pope’s acknowledgment that love is a worthy motive for engaging in
marital intercourse had taken a long time to develop. In the second century
St. Justin (d. 165) declared: “We Christians either marry only to produce
children.” Sts. Clement of Alexandria and Augustine proclaimed that same
Stoic justification for marital intercourse. That justification was repeated
down through the centuries. But in 1850 Rev. Probst perceived a connection
between sexual love and marital love. In the 1920s von Hildebrand proposed
that the marital act is a unique expression of wedded love. In the 1930s Rev.
Doms developed the ideas of Probst and von Hildebrand in The Meaning
of Marriage. The bishops of the Second Vatican Council recognized the
relationship between marital intercourse and spousal love and included that
understanding in The Constitution on the Church in the Modern World. Now
Pope John Paul was incorporating these themes in his teaching about the
“nuptial meaning” of the body.
It should be noted that celibacy could also convey the nuptial meaning
of the body. A person can forego marriage and give his or her body for the
sake of the kingdom of heaven, an act demonstrating the “nuptial meaning”
contained in “the freedom of the gift in the human body.”54
SEXUAL ATTRACTION
In his audiences from April 16, 1980, to December 10, 1984, Pope John
Paul II offered further reflections on love, concupiscence, and sexual attrac-
tion. Many of his ideas were the same as those enunciated in his Love and
Responsibility. Only if a man and a woman are able to exercise a certain
sexual restraint, can they “exist in the relationship of mutual self-giving.”55 If
a spouse only desires the body of his or her mate, then that spouse treats the
other’s body-self as an object of his or her lust. He or she thereby degrades
“the relationship of the gift” to the level of a “relationship of appropriation.”56
Appropriation flows from the concupiscence that drives a person toward pos-
session of the other as an object of mere enjoyment. Such possession “brings
with it the negation of the nuptial meaning of the body.”57
John Paul was not against married people enjoying each other’s bodies in
their acts of marital intercourse. In an audience given on September 10, 1980,
he elaborated on this point. “Passion aims at satisfaction” and thus “wears
out” the one who seeks it.58 However, sexual attraction is not lustful passion.
“The value of sex is part of all the rich storehouse of values” though which
masculinity appeals to the woman and femininity appeals to the man.59
196 Chapter 22
Pope John Paul II did want to distance himself from the Manichees who
“saw the source of evil in . . . the body” and then extended their condemnation
of the body to “marriage and to conjugal life.”60 In contrast, said the pope, the
Christian view of the body asserts that from the beginning man and woman
were mutually called to sexual communion.61 Because God created us male
and female (Gen. 1:27), the bodily communion of husband and wife has al-
ways been an “intentional dimension of the man’s and the woman’s mutual
existence.”62 According to God’s plan, our bodies and our sexuality are to be
placed “in the service of the communion of persons.”63 For these reasons mu-
tual sexual attraction and the nuptial meaning of the body are integral aspects
of the human condition.
The Erotic as “Good, True, and Beautiful”

The attitude of total acceptance of God’s creative Lordship recognizes that
God wills the erotic dimension of human sexuality. The pope pointed out that
the source of the word “erotic” is found in Plato’s understanding of eros, a
kind of “interior force” that draws human beings “towards everything good,
true and beautiful.”64 Eros is an attraction that “seems to be first and foremost
of a sensual nature.”65 Thus it can be said that sensual attraction “arouses
the mutual tendency of both the man and the woman to draw closer to each
other, to the union of bodies, to that union of which Genesis 2:24 spoke.”66
Thus “the call to what is true, good and beautiful” includes “the possibility
and the necessity of transforming what has been weighed down by the lust
of the flesh.”67 The prohibition of lust not only protects the essential values
of human sexuality; it “also makes them accessible and liberates them, if we
learn to open our heart to them.”68
In his audience of November 12, 1980, the pope continued to remind his
listeners that they had the responsibility to constantly rediscover “the nuptial
meaning of the body and the true dignity of the gift” that is contained in the
erotic.69 If a man and a woman merely stopped at the prohibition of lust when
considering the teaching of Jesus (Matt. 5:28), they would not be able to
experience the “fullness of eros.”70 That “fullness” embraces “the aspiration
of the human spirit towards what is true, good and beautiful, so that what is
erotic also becomes true, good and beautiful.”71
POPE JOHN PAUL II AND HUMANAE VITAE
After he became pope, Karol Wojtyla wanted to produce a rational argument

that would demonstrate that every act of intercourse ought to be open to
the transmission of human life (see Humanae Vitae, #11). So he invited the
church’s scholars “to commit themselves to the task of illustrating ever more
clearly the biblical foundations, the ethical grounds and the personalist rea-
sons behind this doctrine” so that it would become “accessible to all people
of good will.”72 Karol Wojtyla, as pope, “inexorably rejected every deviation
from traditional doctrine.”73 He would not lift the church’s ban on contracep-
tives even as whole nations suffered from the AIDS epidemic.74 For the first
ten years of his papacy John Paul II reaffirmed the teaching of Humanae
Vitae “so often and in so many different ways that the reaffirmation became
his main teaching effort.”75
It is possible that Pope John Paul constantly reaffirmed Humanae Vitae
because much of that encyclical was his own thought. In 1965, supported by
the findings of his own Krakow-based study commission (composed of Pol-
ish clergy and lay people), Karol Wojtyla opposed any change in the Catholic
Church’s prohibition of artificial birth control. He then sent his argument
straight to Pope Paul VI.76 In 1966, as a member of the papal birth control
commission, he strongly disagreed with the majority of the nine bishops on
the commission who had concluded that “the Church’s condemnation of
birth control could not be sustained by reasoned argument.”77 They had also
concluded that the use of artificial birth control was not “intrinsically evil.”78
In his Love and Responsibility, written six years earlier, Bishop Wojtyla had
declared his position: “Neither in the man nor in the woman can affirmation
of the value of the person be divorced from awareness and willing acceptance
that he may become a father and she may become a mother.”79
After Humanae Vitae was issued in July 1968, Cardinal Wojtyla took
credit for himself and his Krakow commission, declaring, “We helped the
pope [Paul VI].”80 One of Wojtyla’s colleagues, Father Andrzej Bardecki,
stated that 60 percent of Pope Paul VI’s Humanae Vitae could be traced back
to Wojtyla’s Krakow commission and subsequent paper.81 Bernstein and
Politi commented: “Thus the sexual philosophy of Wojtyla and his flock of
Polish Catholics became the rule for the Church universal.”82
FAMILIARIS CONSORTIO
In 1982 Pope John Paul II wrote his apostolic exhortation, Familiaris Consortio
(On the Family). This papal exhortation artfully sounded the personalist themes
articulated by Dietrich von Hildebrand, Herbert Doms, the conciliar treatment
of marriage, Humanae Vitae, and, not surprisingly, Love and Responsibility.
Familiaris Consortio is a hymn praising married love. Over and over again the
pope spoke of the “vocation of the baptized ‘to be married in the Lord.’”83
198 Chapter 22
God created the human person as an “incarnate spirit.”84 The pope recog-
nized that “sexuality, by means of which man and woman give themselves to
one another . . . concerns the innermost being of the human person as such.”85
Avoiding the age-old Catholic tendency to juxtapose carnal body and spiri-
tual soul, he proclaimed: “Love includes the human body, and the body is
made a sharer in spiritual love.”86
Referring to the letter to the Ephesians, the pope spoke of the sexual union
of spouses reaching “its definite fullness in the gift of love . . . and in the
sacrifice which Jesus Christ makes of himself on the cross for his bride, the
church.”87 With the Holy Spirit acting in Christian husbands and wives, they
become “capable of loving one another as Christ has loved us.”88 In married
love the “appeal of the body and instinct” (sexual attraction) involves “all
the elements of the person”—namely, the “appeal of the body and instinct,
power of feeling and affectivity, aspiration of the spirit and of will.”89 Thus
Pope John Paul II explicitly moved the Catholic Church’s teaching to a new
place, a place where all the dynamics of marital intercourse are accepted as
coming from the creative Lordship of God. In 1850 Rev. Ferdinand Probst
proposed that marital intercourse was a reality that ought to be “re-clothed”
by means of “the moral elevation of sexual love and its resultant transforma-
tion into marital love.”90 In his “theology of the body,” Pope John Paul made
his contribution to that “moral elevation of sexual love.”
Nevertheless, as good and holy as marital love is, the pope declared that
marital intercourse should not be thought of without its inseparable connec-
tion to procreation. Thus, while conjugal love “aims at a deeply personal
unity,” each act of sexual union also had to be “open to fertility.”91 As he had
asserted earlier, “the total physical self-giving would be a lie if it were not
the sign and fruit of a total personal self-giving, in which the whole person
is present.”92 The pope drove home his point by repeating the key point in
Humanae Vitae: “[T]he teaching of the church ‘is founded upon the insepa-
rable connection willed by God and unable to be broken by man on his own
initiative between the two meanings of the conjugal act: the unitive meaning
and the procreative meaning.’”93
Pope John Paul then presented his list of personalist reasons that explained
why the sexual expression of love may not be separated from the possibility
of procreation. First, spouses taking measures to avoid conception “‘manipu-
late’ and degrade human sexuality.”94 Second, spouses degrade “themselves
and their married partner by altering the value of the marriage act.”95 Third, if
contraception is involved, spouses cannot express “total self-giving” because
“the innate language that expresses the total reciprocal self-giving of husband
and wife is overlaid, through contraception, by an objectively contradictory
language, namely, that of not giving oneself totally to the other.”96
For nearly nineteen centuries the leaders of the Catholic Church said
nothing about marital intercourse being an expression of self-giving love.
But toward the end of the twentieth century Pope John Paul II could not say
enough about the relationship between marital intercourse and the expres-
sion of spousal love. Over and over again he asserted that the conjugal act
is especially wonderful because it can express perfect, self-giving love. He
employed the language used by Dietrich von Hildebrand in his efforts to ex-
plore the meaning that marital sex could have for husband and wife. Again
and again one might see Herbert Doms’ theme of “two-in-oneship” reflected
in the pope’s words. The reliance of Pope John Paul II’s argument against
birth control almost parallels that of Herbert Doms, who wrote: “But if he
interferes with the biological process itself either before, after or during the
act, his giving of himself can no longer be complete and unreserved. . . . It
has ceased to express the giving of the whole personality.”97
Thus Pope John Paul II had offered his argument proving that all forms of
artificial birth control were immoral. If spouses were not prepared to include
their fertility in their act of self-giving love, then they falsified “the inner truth
of conjugal love.”98 It would be as if each partner said to the other, “I want
your body, but I don’t want your fertility.” To be a truly authentic marital act,
every act had to be both an act of loving communion as well as an act open
to procreation.
Asserting the inseparable connection between marital acts and procreation,
Pope John Paul II preserved the ancient Stoic doctrine that had been the ba-
sis of church teaching since the early centuries. The justification of marital
intercourse still depended on its relationship to procreation. But there was
something very new. Thanks to the pope’s reasoning, each act of marital
intercourse had to express all of its possible values—indissolubility, fidelity,
self-giving love, and openness to offspring. If all these values could not be
expressed at the same time, then spouses should abstain from marital rela-
tions.
Pope John Paul also enumerated the advantages of self-control that can be
attained through the use of “periodic continence” or “Natural Family Plan-
ning” (NFP). “Far from harming conjugal love,” avoiding intercourse during
the woman’s fertile time confers “a higher human value” on the practice of
dominating instinct.99 The “continual effort” of practicing periodic continence
has the “beneficent influence” of enriching husband and wife by enabling
them to “fully develop their personalities.”100
While Pope John Paul has offered a perspective that goes against contem-
porary culture’s trivialization of human sexuality, his perspective may be too
lofty to connect with most married people. Luke Timothy Johnson has noted
that the pope’s “all-encompassing mode of mutual self-donation between
200 Chapter 22
man and woman . . . lacks any of the messy, clumsy, awkward, charming, ca-
sual, and, yes, silly aspects of love in the flesh.”101 Pope John Paul might have
shown some real “appreciation for the goodness of sexual pleasure” instead
of presenting sexual passion “mainly as an obstacle to authentic love.”102
IN SUM
It can be said that Pope John Paul II’s reign over the Catholic Church’s of-
ficial teaching on marital intercourse extended from 1966 through 2004.
Wojtyla had expressed his position on marital sexuality in his 1960 work,
Love and Responsibility. In 1966, when the majority of the birth control
commission on population was voting for a change in the Catholic Church’s
prohibition of artificial birth control, Wojtyla took his argument directly to
Pope Paul VI. Two years later Wojtyla’s key ideas were found embedded in
Pope Paul’s Humanae Vitae.
After Cardinal Wojtyla became pope, he repeatedly stressed that there
could be no separation of the unitive purpose of marital intercourse from
the procreative purpose. Difficulties and objections not withstanding, Karol
Wojtyla, as a priest, as a bishop, as a member of the papal birth control com-
mission, and as pope, has stood by what he has called “sexual morality from a
personalistic point of view.” His stance can be summed up in his own words:
“I can’t change what I’ve been teaching all my life.”103 However, in that
lifetime of teaching Karol Wojtyla had presented the most positive official
teaching about marital intercourse in the history of the Catholic Church.
NOTES
1. Thomas Cahill, Pope John XXIII (New York: Viking Penguin, 2002), 224.
2. Cahill, Pope John XXIII, 224–25.
3. Karol Wojtyla, Love and Responsibility, trans. H. T. Willetts (New York: Far-
rar, Straus and Giroux, Inc., 1981, 1994), 145.
4. Brennan R. Hill, “Bernard Häring and the Second Vatican Council,” in Hori-
zons: The Journal of the Catholic Theology Society, Vol. 33, No. 1, Spring 2006, 97.
5. Wojtyla, Love and Responsibility, 148–49.
6. Wojtyla, Love and Responsibility, 159.
7. Wojtyla, Love and Responsibility, 150–51.

22. Cahill, Pope John XXIII, 225.
26. Carl Bernstein and Marco Politi, His Holiness: John Paul II and the Hidden
History of Our Time (New York: Doubleday, 1996), 83.
27. Claire Schaeffer-Duffy, “Models of Holiness and Married Life,” Cover story,
National Catholic Reporter, December 28, 2001.
28. Schaeffer-Duffy, “Models of Holiness and Married Life.”
29. Schaeffer-Duffy, “Models of Holiness and Married Life.”
42. George Weigel, Witness to Hope (New York: Harper Collins, 1999), 336.
43. Johannes Quasten, Walter Burghardt, and Thomas Lawler, eds., Ancient
Christian Writers: The Works of the Fathers in Translation. St. Augustine: The Lit-
eral Meaning of Genesis, trans. John Hammond Taylor, S.J. (Ramsey: Paulist Press,
1982), Book IX, 5, 9, 75.
44. Pope John Paul II, The Theology of the Body: Human Love in the Divine Plan
(Boston: Pauline Books and Media, 1997), general audience of January 9, 1980, 60.
45. Pope John Paul II, The Theology of the Body, general audience of January 9,
1980, 60.
1980, 61.
1980, 61.
202 Chapter 22
1980, 62.
1980, 62.
1980, 62.
1980, 62.
1980, 63.
1980, 63.
1980, 66.
55. Pope John Paul II, The Theology of the Body, general audience of July 22,
1980, 127.
1980, 127.
1980, 130.
58. Pope John Paul II, The Theology of the Body, general audience of September
10, 1980, 146.
17, 1980, 149.
60. Pope John Paul II, The Theology of the Body, general audience of October 15,
1980, 161.
24, 1980, 152.
24, 1980, 152.
63. Pope John Paul II, The Theology of the Body, general audience of October 22,
1980, 163.
64. Pope John Paul II, The Theology of the Body, general audience of November
5, 1980, 169.
5, 1980, 169.
5, 1980, 169.
5, 1980, 170–71.
5, 1980, 171.
5, 1980, 171.
12, 1980, 171.
12, 1980, 171.
72. Pope John Paul II, On the Family (Familiaris Consortio) (Washington, D.C.:
United States Catholic Conference, 1982), #31, 28.
73. Bernstein and Politi, His Holiness, 404.
75. John F. Kippley and Sheila K. Kippley, The Art of Natural Family Planning
(Cincinnati: The Couple To Couple League International, Inc., 1996), 274.
76. Bernstein and Politi, His Holiness, 112–13.
83. Pope John Paul II, On the Family, #7, 6.
87. Pope John Paul II, On the Family, #13, 10–11.
88. Pope John Paul II, On the Family, #13, 10–11.
90. Ferdinand Probst, Katholische Moral Theologie, 1850, Tome II, 180, cited
in Dr. Herbert Doms, The Meaning of Marriage (New York: Sheed & Ward, 1939),
xix.
93. Pope John Paul II, On the Family, #32, 29 (see also Humanae Vitae #12).
97. Herbert Doms, The Meaning of Marriage, trans. George Sayer (London:
Sheed & Ward, 1939), 168.
99. Pope John Paul II, On the Family, #32, art. 33.
100. Pope John Paul II, On the Family, #32, art. 33.
101. Luke Timothy Johnson, “A Disembodied ‘Theology of the Body’: John Paul
II on Love, Sex, and Pleasure,” in Kieran Scott and Harold D. Horell, eds., Human
Sexuality in the Catholic Tradition (Lanham, Md.: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers,
Inc., 2007), 114.
102. Johnson, “A Disembodied ‘Theology of the Body,’” 117.
23
Conscience and Fidelity to Church Teaching
ON ATTITUDES, RELATIONSHIPS,
AND CHURCH TEACHING
Ideally, the leadership and the members of a believing community live in a

relationship of complementarity. Ecclesiastical leadership supports the com-
munity by proclaiming the church’s moral and spiritual values. In turn, the
members support the ecclesial leadership, accepting its guidance as gift and
living in accord with those spiritual and moral values.
However, since the promulgation of Humanae Vitae in 1968, increasing
numbers of Catholics have been ignoring the church’s teaching on marital
morality. In 1997 a poll conducted by a grant from the Lilly Foundation
revealed that agreement with papal teaching was statistically nonexistent
among Catholics in their twenties and thirties.1 These Catholics seem to
have adopted a take-it-or-leave-it attitude. They might think, “The pope isn’t
married, so what does he know?” But such a remark displays an attitude
that both misses the point about genuine authority and destroys the role of
conscience.
Simply put, a serious Catholic takes the teaching of the church seriously. It
is inappropriate to approach Catholic teaching on a take-it-or-leave-it basis.
Catholic Christians are asked to give their religious assent to official church
teaching (the magisterium).2 The requirement of religious assent puts many
married couples in a bind when it comes to the Catholic teaching that asserts
“‘every action which, whether in anticipation of the conjugal act, or in its ac-
complishment, or in the development of its natural consequences, purposes,
whether as an end or as a means, to render procreation impossible’ is intrinsi-
cally evil.”3 While this teaching “is not formally (that is, literally) expressed
205
206 Chapter 23
in Sacred Scripture,”4 it is the church’s official doctrine. Even though a

significant portion of this traditional doctrine rests upon what seems to be
the rather shaky foundations of an anti-sexual bias stemming from leaders of
the early church, believers are not excused from their responsibility to take
church teaching seriously.
A PASTORAL SOLUTION?
So what are faithful Catholic couples to do when they find themselves hard-
pressed to live according to the church’s teaching? The answer to this ques-
tion can be stated this way: Married Catholics are asked to reflect upon, seri-
ously consider, and pray about the ways in which they responsibly express
their love for each other. In situations where couples find a conflict involving
their sexual expression of love and their fertility, husband and wife should do
all they can to follow church teaching. But, if they have tried and have found
that they cannot put that teaching into practice, there might yet be another
choice before them. It seems to me that the following pastoral approach is a
possibility.
In 1968 the American bishops recognized the dilemma of married Catholics
when they responded to Humanae Vitae in their pastoral letter, Human Life in
Our Day. Recognizing that “married couples faced with conflicting duties are
often caught in agonizing crises of conscience,” the bishops acknowledged
that “at times it proves difficult to harmonize the sexual expression of con-
jugal love with respect for the life-giving power of sexual union and respon-
sible parenthood.”5 The American bishops then cited the counsel Pope Paul
VI himself gave to couples struggling with the church’s teaching on marital
relations—namely, to continue to receive the sacraments. The bishops quoted
Pope Paul: “Above all, let them draw from the source of grace and charity in
the Eucharist. And if sin should still keep its hold over them, let them not be
discouraged, but rather have recourse with humble perseverance to the mercy
of God, which is poured forth in the sacrament of Penance.”6
Perhaps the American bishops recognized that Humanae Vitae possessed
what might be called “hard line” and “soft line” approaches. It might be said
that, on the one hand, American bishops demonstrated their loyalty to the
papal teaching by citing the hard line: “[N]o one following the teaching of
the church can deny the objective evil of artificial contraception itself.”7 On
the other hand, it might be said that the American bishops followed the soft
line by introducing a variation in the way married Catholics, even while being
hard-pressed to follow church teaching, could still receive the sacraments of
penance and the Eucharist. The bishops stated: “With pastoral solicitude we
Conscience and Fidelity to Church Teaching 207
urge those who have resorted to artificial contraception never to lose heart
but to continue to take full advantage of the strength which comes from the
Sacrament of Penance and the grace, healing, and peace in the Eucharist.”8
Perhaps noting the soft or “pastoral” approach contained in parts of Pope
Paul’s Humanae Vitae, the American bishops urged Catholics using contra-
ceptives to struggle to overcome this practice while continuing to receive
the sacraments of reconciliation and the Eucharist. Ever since the 1886 deci-
sion of the Roman Penitentiary not to leave in “good faith” those coming
to confession, priests were not permitted to give absolution to those using
birth control. Without that absolution a person was forbidden to receive the
Eucharist. But in parts of his encyclical Pope Paul VI had perhaps taken a
different perspective. It might be said that, working with that perspective, the
American bishops told the faithful not to deprive themselves of the healing
power of the sacraments of penance and the Eucharist. This could be seen as
an act of pastoral statesmanship. By accepting the papal concept that interfer-
ence with the power of the sexual act to produce children was an “objective
evil,” the American bishops had observed the letter of the law of the ordinary,
non-infallible magisterium (Catholic teaching). Then, by urging Catholics to
continue receiving the sacraments, the bishops may have intended to offer a
pastoral solution to an old problem. Perhaps that pastoral solution was the
possibility of “dissent.”
Could There Be Dissent from Church Teaching?

Explaining the “Norms of Licit Theological Dissent,” the bishops stated that
the starting point for “theological dissent from non-infallible doctrine” is the
recognition that there is “always a presumption in favor of the magisterium.”9
Given that presumption, when would dissent be appropriate? “Theological
dissent” from church teaching is appropriate when it meets three conditions.
Such dissent “is in order if the reasons are serious and well-founded, if the
manner of dissent does not question or impugn the teaching authority of the
church and is such as not to give scandal.”10 In other words, a theologian has
to have good reasons for not following a particular teaching, has to continue
to respect the authority of church leaders, and must not cause others to disre-
gard the authority of the church’s leadership.
Some would note that these conditions apply only to theologians. One
could ask, however, if these conditions are met, can the Catholic Christian
faultlessly follow his or her conscience regarding what he or she should do?
While no one can say for sure what the American bishops had in mind back in
1968, it can be said that the bishops did recognize that “married couples faced
with conflicting duties are often caught in agonizing crises of conscience.”11
208 Chapter 23
The fact that the bishops outlined the conditions for dissent might mean that
they intended that married couples apply the conditions for dissent to their
own situations. Perhaps confessors and spiritual advisors might use the list-
ing of the conditions for dissent in order to help the married inform their
consciences on this serious matter.
No Pastoral Solution for Married Catholics

In subsequent years, however, the American bishops refrained from speaking
further about dissent. In their November 14, 2006, statement, “Married Love
and the Gift of Life,” the American bishops pointed out that “when married
couples deliberately act to suppress fertility, however, sexual intercourse is no
longer fully marital intercourse.”12 Echoing the themes of Pope John Paul II’s
“Theology of the Body,” the American bishops observed that “[s]uppressing
fertility by using contraception denies part of the inherent meaning of mar-
ried sexuality and does harm to the couple’s unity.”13 The American bishops
added: “This may seem a hard saying. . . . But as many couples who have
turned away from contraception tell us, living this teaching can contribute to
the honesty, openness, and intimacy of marriage and help make couples truly
fulfilled.”14
NATURAL FAMILY PLANNING
Whether the pope is Boniface VIII, or John Paul II, or Benedict XVI, Catholic
Christians are obliged to acknowledge the authority of papal teaching. Even if
church leaders have made mistakes in the past, the papal office commands the
respect of all. Even if twentieth-century church leaders seem to some to have
been unable to offer a convincing natural law argument demonstrating that all
forms of artificial birth control are intrinsically evil, there is a constant tradi-
tion that procreation should not be separated from acts of marital intercourse.
Taking that tradition seriously, it would seem that the most acceptable way
to assure that a child is not conceived when husband and wife are unwilling
to become parents is to periodically abstain from marital intercourse. At the
present time either complete abstinence or Natural Family Planning (NFP)
with its periodic abstinence are the only permissible methods that Catholic
Christians may use to regulate the number of their children. The Catechism
of the Catholic Church states: “Periodic continence, that is, the methods of
birth regulation based on self-observation and the use of infertile periods, is
in conformity with the objective criteria of morality.”15
Natural Family Planning, while requiring periodic abstinence, is not the

same thing as the unreliable “rhythm method” approved by Pope Pius XII
in 1951. “NFP” allows the woman to determine when she is fertile through
observation of her own bodily signs. In this method of birth regulation there
are no health risks and no conflicts with Catholic teaching. It is also pointed
out that, when couples use Natural Family Planning to regulate the size of
their families, husband and wife communicate better, appreciate each other
more deeply, discover new ways of expressing their affection for each other,
and have a much lower divorce rate than the general population.16
In marriages in which one or both spouses are Catholic Christians, and
when it is necessary to limit the number of their children, husband and wife
should at least try to make natural methods of family planning work. In mak-
ing their conscientious decisions, husband and wife need to know as much
relevant information as possible. It is hoped that this book’s survey of the
origins and development of the church’s attitude and teaching regarding mari-
tal relations will contribute to a deeper appreciation of the holiness of their
marital acts as well as contribute to the store of information married couples
need to inform themselves and to form their consciences.
OBSERVATIONS
I began writing this book in the 1990s in order to make a contribution to

the understanding and appreciation of the goodness of Christian marriage. I
have discussed the factors that have influenced the formation of the Catholic
Church’s doctrine concerning sexual activity in marriage and that there is a
developing recognition of the element of spirituality in marital sexuality. I am
of the opinion that the theology of the church is in need of further develop-
ment and I have tried to stay within the doctrinal boundaries of the Catholic
Church. I have stressed the values of a loving relationship and sexual pleasure
in the theology of marriage.
I have not given much space to the place or value of procreation in the
marital context because the Catholic Church’s teaching is clear on the value of
the gift of children. But church teaching has not been clear about the spiritual
significance of the marital act or the value of the marital act as the primary way
in which spouses express their love for one another. These features of marital
intercourse were not explicitly recognized until the twentieth century. Pleasure
too is a gift of God, and unless we Christians recognize the truth in this, it will
be difficult to thank God for this gift. It was not until the eighteenth century
that the greatly respected moral theologian, St. Alphonsus Liguori, held that it
210 Chapter 23
was morally permissible to engage in marital intercourse without the intention

to conceive a child. This same theologian also taught that spouses could seek
sexual pleasure in the marital act provided that they were not principally seek-
ing such pleasure. As this book has pointed out, churchmen have depreciated
the element of sexual pleasure in the marital act and have discouraged married
persons from finding pleasure in that very act.
I totally agree with the Second Vatican Council’s teaching that the purposes
of the marital act are union and procreation. As the bishops pointed out at the
Second Vatican Council: “By their very nature, the institution of matrimony
itself and conjugal love are ordained for the procreation and education of
children, and find in them their ultimate crown.”17 Nevertheless, the Catholic
Church has only recently recognized that marital sex, mutually pleasurable
marital sex, is good, and she still shows reluctance in recognizing the value of
sexual pleasure. Perhaps this reluctance comes from the fact that contempo-
rary culture trivializes and exploits sexual pleasure.
In a very real way the Catholic Church is on the verge of doing what Rev.
Ferdinand Probst proposed in 1850. He suggested that the marital union of
husband and wife was a reality that ought to “be re-clothed in spiritual rai-
ment” by morally elevating “sexual love and its resultant transformation into
marital love.”18 However, while the Catholic Church has elevated sexual love
into marital love, she has also elevated the biological or reproductive func-
tion of marital intercourse. And so the American bishops recently taught that
while “a couple need not desire or seek to have a child in each and every act
of intercourse,” husband and wife “should never act to suppress or curtail the
life-giving power given by God that is an integral part of what they pledged
to each other in their marriage vows.”19 Repeating the crucial passage in Hu-
manae Vitae, the bishops stated: “This is what the Church means by saying
that every act of intercourse must remain open to life and that contraception
is objectively immoral.”20
THE CHURCH’S “GROWTH IN UNDERSTANDING”
When the Second Vatican Council spoke about the church’s ever deepening
understanding of the Scriptures, the conciliar bishops pointed out that there are
three sources of growth in the understanding “of the realities and the words
which have been handed down.”21 That development of perception takes place
“through the contemplation and study made by believers . . . through the
intimate understanding of spiritual things they experience, and through the
preaching of those who have received through Episcopal succession the sure
gift of truth.”22
The conciliar bishops also declared: “[A]s the centuries succeed one an-
other, the church constantly moves forward toward the fullness of divine truth
until the words of God reach their complete fulfillment in her.”23 It could well
be that the pilgrim church’s doctrine on marital intercourse could belong more
to the realm of development than it does to the realm of “the fullness of divine
truth.” This author affirms that, when it comes to church teaching, there is
“always a presumption in favor of the magisterium.” On the other hand, it is
a fact that church doctrine develops. Some theologians rank the prohibition of
contraception with the great dogmas that will never change because this teach-
ing belongs to the realm of “the fullness of divine truth.” These theologians
conclude that the teaching condemning artificial contraception is infallible.
Other theologians argue that this teaching is not infallible.
During most of the church’s history her leaders had limited their perception
of marital intercourse as being significant only for its usefulness in procreat-
ing children. St. Augustine declared that in the act of intercourse the man be-
comes “all flesh.” Gratian expressed the medieval counterpart of Augustine’s
declaration: “[T]he presence of the Holy Spirit is not given at the time when
conjugal acts are undertaken.”24
I wrote this book to make a contribution toward a theology of marital
sexuality that would take into account how the Catholic Church developed
its teaching on marital sexuality. I wanted to indicate the newer direction in
which official Catholic teaching is moving. While our society has certainly
trivialized human sexuality, the Catholic Church’s lofty teaching on marriage
makes an immense contribution toward an appreciation of the deeply human
and spiritual dimensions of human sexuality.
NOTES
1. Garry Wills, “The Council We Are Still Living,” in National Catholic Reporter,
October 4, 2002.
2. See Walter Abbott, “The Constitution on the Church,” in The Documents of
Vatican II (New York: The America Press, 1966), #25, 48.
3. The Catechism of the Catholic Church, trans. The United States Catholic
Conference, Inc. (Liguori, Mo.: Liguori Publications, 1994), #2370, 570. See also
Humanae Vitae, #14.
4. John Paul II, The Theology of the Body: Human Love in the Divine Plan (Bos-
ton: Pauline Books and Media, 1997), 389.
5. United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, Human Life in Our Day (Wash-
ington, D.C.: United States Catholic Conference, 1968), 15–16.
6. United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, Human Life in Our Day, 16,
citing Humanae Vitae, #25.
212 Chapter 23
7. United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, Human Life in Our Day, 16.
11. United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, Human Life in Our Day,
15–16.
12. United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, “Married Love and the Gift of
Life,” http://www.usccb.org/laity/marriage/MarriedLove.pdf. (June 29, 2008).
Life.”
Life.”
15. The Catechism of the Catholic Church, #2370, 570; see also Humanae Vitae,
#16.
16. See John F. Kippley and Sheila K. Kippley, The Art of Natural Family Plan-
ning (Cincinnati: The Couple To Couple League International, Inc., 1996), 243–61.
17. Walter Abbott, “The Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern
World,” in Documents of Vatican II, #48, 250.
18. Ferdinand Probst, Katholische Moral Theologie, 1850, Tome II, 180, cited
in Dr. Herbert Doms, The Meaning of Marriage (New York: Sheed & Ward, 1939),
xix.
Life.”
Life.”
21. Walter Abbott, “The Constitution on Divine Revelation,” in Documents of
Vatican II, #8, 116.
22. Abbott, “The Constitution on Divine Revelation,” in Documents of Vatican
II, #8, 116.
23. Abbott, “The Constitution on Divine Revelation,” in Documents of Vatican
II, #8, 116.
24. Gratian, Harmony of Discordant Canons (2.32.2.4), cited in Payer, The Bri-
dling of Desire (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1993), 101.
Epilogue
A LIMPING ANALOGY:
“THE TWO TRUTHS OF KATIE NOLAN”
At the start of this book Francie Nolan recognized that she was curious about
sex.1 Years later, Francie meets Lee, a young soldier leaving for the war in
Europe. In the course of two days she finds herself falling in love. On the
night before his ship departs, Lee asks her if she would spend the night “in a
room . . . alone. . . . Just till morning when I leave?”2 Thinking Lee might be
killed in the war, Francie is torn between compassion, conscience, and desire.
She decides not to spend the night with the pleading soldier. Months after-
ward Francie finds herself feeling betrayed and regretful. She asks, “Mother,
he asked me to be with him for the night. Should I have gone?”3
As Katie Nolan’s “mind darted around looking for words,” her daughter
pleads, “Don’t make up a lie, Mother. Tell me the truth.” But still “Katie
couldn’t find the right words.” Should Francie have loved Lee while she had
the chance? Desperate to know the truth, Francie makes a solemn promise
that she will never go with a man without being married first. Then she says:
“You can tell me the truth without worrying that I’ll go wrong if I know it.”
“‘There are two truths,’ said Katie finally. ‘As a mother, I say it would
have been a terrible thing for a girl to sleep with a stranger—a man she had
known less than forty-eight hours. Horrible things might have happened to
you. Your whole life might have been ruined. As your mother, I tell you the
truth. But as a woman . . .’ she hesitated. ‘I will tell you the truth as a woman.
It would have been a very beautiful thing.’”4
In this poignant conversation between mother and daughter one might
hear a faint echo of the development of the Catholic Church’s attitude and
213
214 Epilogue
teaching regarding marital relations. For the longest time Mother Church
feared that sexual pleasure could ruin the lives of her children. “Horrible
things might have happened.” Eternal life “might have been ruined.” Mother
Church knew that when human beings separate erotic desires from the to-
tality of human values, in particular the bodily aspect of genital sexuality,
her children could fall into the depths of depravity. Fearing that possibility,
Mother Church seems to have overlooked the spiritual aspects of sexual
attraction and mutual physical affection. Through the centuries Mother
Church’s authoritative voice spoke of marital sexuality in terms of warnings
and prohibitions.
There came along a young priest, Karol Wojtyla. He was beginning to think
out what would someday become his “theology of the body.” Then Pope John
XXIII called for an ecumenical and pastoral council. In a comparison that has
obvious flaws, it could be said that just as Katie Nolan’s perception changed
when she spoke of sexual intercourse “as a woman,” so also the perspective
of the Catholic Church changed when her conciliar bishops recognized that
marital intercourse is not only for conceiving children but is also a way of
expressing spousal love. Perceiving the goodness in the beauty of the lover’s
erotic attraction for his or her beloved, the authors of The Pastoral Constitu-
tion recognized that marital intimacy is “a very beautiful thing.” The Catholic
bishops declared that the “eminently human” love of husband and wife “is
uniquely expressed and perfected through the marital act.”5
Of course, Mother Church would never condone such a one-night stand as
discussed by Francie and her mother. The church teaches that, as followers
of Jesus Christ, young people should wait until their sexual loving can mir-
ror the permanent and passionate commitment that Christ has for his church.
The point of the reference to Betty Smith’s A Tree Grows in Brooklyn is that,
during the last third of the twentieth century, the Catholic Church explicitly
recognized that marital intercourse is beautiful and its pleasures come from
the way God has created us as male and female.
Some sixteen centuries ago St. Augustine, recognizing his belated love of
God, exclaimed: “I have learned to love you late, Beauty at once so ancient
and so new! Late have I learned to love you.”6 Today spouses might well ex-
claim, “Late has our Church taught how good it is for us to sexually love each
other. Late have we learned to love knowing that our acts of marital intimacy
mirror the love of Christ for his Church.”
NOTES
1. Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (New York: Perennial Library Edition,
1968, Harper & Row Publishers, 1943, 1947), 217–18.
Epilogue 215

5. Walter Abbott, “The Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World,”
in Documents of Vatican II (New York: The America Press, 1966), #49, 252–53.
6. St. Augustine, Confessions, trans. R. S. Pine-Coffin (Middlesex, England: Pen-
guin Books, 1961), Book X, 27, 231.
Index
Abelard, Peter, 78 adultery: contraception and, 183; in

abstinence: Anglican Church on, early church, 11; Gnosticism and, 19;
131–32; Augustine on, 39; in Bible, in medieval church, 71, 71–72; moral
9–10, 52–53; as contraception, 199, theology and, 95; sin and, 39; Ten
208–9; Council of Trent on, 103; in Commandments on, 24
early church, 21–22; Eucharist and, Adversus Jovinianum (Jerome), 37
70, 103; experience with, 156–61; Aelred of Rievauix, 57
Gnosticism and, 18–19; holy The Aeneid (Virgil), 47n24
days and, 53, 54, 56, 69–70, 103; affection, 107, 109, 110–11, 147. See
Manichaeanism and, 32; in medieval also love; union
church, 52–54, 56–57, 58–59, 69–71, agape, 19
74, 79; in modern church, 102–3, Albert the Great, Saint, 83, 85–86, 88
120, 133, 135–36, 148–49, 151–52, Albigensians, 77
192; prayer and, 10, 11, 23, 45, 52, Alcuin, 56
54, 55, 70; during pregnancy, 24, 53, Alexander III, 73–74
69, 71; spirituality and, 73. See also Alfrink, B., 167
celibacy; virginity allocutions, 147, 148
Adam and Eve: Augustine on, 34–35, Alphonsus Liguori, Saint, 113–15, 117,
41, 42, 43; bodies of, 22, 42, 44, 132, 209–10
194–95; creation of, 5, 6, 84, 100; Ambrose, Saint, 37, 62
Gnosticism and, 19; lust and, 42; American bishops, 184, 206–8, 210–11
Manichaeanism and, 31; marriage Anglican Church, 131–32, 133–34
of, 81, 100; in medieval church, 81; Anysius (bishop), 62
in modern church, 106, 109, 127, Aqiba, 6–7
139, 142, 151, 194–95; pleasure Arcanum Divinae Sapientiae (Leo XIII),
and, 34–35, 85; shame and, 42; sin 119
results from, vii, 34–35, 41, 81, Aristotle: on conception, 148; moral
85–86, 151 theology and, 93, 95; Thomas
217
218 Index
Aquinas follows, 83, 84, 86–87, 89, Manichaeanism and, 31; in modern
93 church, 141, 190, 193–96, 198
Athenagoras, 24–25 Boigelot, R., 144
Augustine, Saint: on abstinence, Bonaventure, Saint, 80–81, 141
39; attitudes of generally, 29; Boris (prince of Bulgaria), 56
on children, 32–33, 35–40, 41; Bourne, Francis, 132
Christianity adopted by, 30; Bouvier, John Baptist, 116
contraception and, 150; Council of Brown, Peter, 25
Trent and, 106; on creation, 33–37, Buddhism, 90
40; on evil, 36–37; on flesh, 211; Burch, Thomas, 185
God and, 214; on good, 36; on love, Burchard (bishop of Worms), 69–70
40; on lust, 29–30, 34–37, 38, 39–
40, 41, 42–43; Manichaeanism and, Caesarius, 54
29, 31, 32–33, 41, 44; on marriage, Cahill, Thomas, 192
30, 32–40, 41, 45–46, 77, 80–81, Cana, 56
89–90, 102, 133, 195; on pleasure, Cannon, Carol Ann, 48n36
32–37, 38, 40–46, 96; sexuality of, canon law: on celibacy, 61, 62–63,
29–30, 33; on sin, 34–37, 39–40, 65–66; Code of Canon Law, 70, 75,
40–46, 86 121, 133; development of, 69–75; in
authorship, 15n10 modern church, 121
Canterbury, archbishop of, 55
baptism, 41 Cantor, Peter, 86
Bardecki, Andrzej, 197 Casti Cannubii (Pius XI), 3, 43, 132–36,
Barrett, Donald, 176–77 139, 175–76, 181
beauty, 101 The Catechism of the Catholic Church,
Bede, Venerable, 55–56 208
Beitia (bishop of Santander), 167 The Catechism of the Council of Trent,
Bellarmine, Robert, 106 99–103, 120–21, 125
Bernard of Clairveaux, Saint, 57, 78 Cathars, 77
Bible: abstinence and, 52–53; attitudes Catholic Church: attitude of generally,
in generally, 5–6, 32; on body, 62; vii–viii, 4, 20–21, 163, 213–14;
on desire, 7, 10, 11–12, 44; Genesis, conditional acceptance policy of, viii,
6, 7, 18, 19, 33–37, 40, 41, 44, 100, 7, 8, 21
194; Luke, gospel of, 23; myth celibacy: body and, 195; of clergy
in, 5; on pleasure, 6–7, 10–11; sin generally, 61–66; in early church, 21;
in, 41; Song of Songs, 6–7, 57; Eucharist and, 37; lust and, 64–65;
understanding of, 210–11. See also marriage inferior to, 12, 37–38, 151;
Paul, Saint; individual books in modern church, 151, 195; of Paul,
Billuart, Charles, 107–8 Saint, 11–12, 14; pleasure and, 2–3;
birth control. See contraception sin and, 64–65. See also abstinence;
bishops, 63, 184, 206–8, 210–11. See virginity
also clergy; individual bishops Chambery (vicar of), 115
body: Augustine on, 42, 44; Bible charity, 135, 136
on, 62; celibacy and, 195; in chastity, 93, 95, 97, 190–91
early church, 22; in Judaism, 62; childbirth, 53, 69
Index 219
children: Anglican Church on, 131; 205–8; faithfulness to teachings on,

Augustine on, 30, 32–33, 35–40, 205–8; lust and, 3; Manichaeanism
41; Council of Trent on, 101; in and, 32; in modern church, 114–17,
early church, 8, 22–26, 30, 32–33, 119–21, 133–34, 135, 149–50, 152,
35–40, 41; Gnosticism and, 18, 155–61, 164–68, 170, 175–85, 190,
19; Manichaeanism and, 31–32; in 192–93, 196–200, 205–9; Natural
medieval church, 51, 53, 55, 70–71, Family Planning, 199, 208–9; papal
74–75, 77, 79, 81, 83, 84; in modern commission on, 164–66, 168, 171,
church, 3, 100, 101, 107–8, 114, 119, 175–79, 181–82, 185, 197; penance
120, 121, 128–29, 133, 139, 142–43, for using, 52, 206; rhythm method,
144–45, 147–49, 152, 167–68, 169, 116–17, 135, 149–50, 152, 155–61,
170, 182–85, 191–93, 196–200, 176–77, 209; Second Vatican
210–11; in Second Vatican Council, Council on, 164–68, 170; as sin, 2,
167–68, 169, 170, 182, 210; sin and, 114–16, 117, 119–21, 135
31–32; Ten Commandments and, 24; Corinthians: on abstinence, 23, 54,
Thomas Aquinas on, 84. See also 55, 99, 102, 111, 120, 151; on
conception; pregnancy fidelity, 38–39; marriage debt in, 74;
Christ. See Jesus Christ marriage in generally, 9–13, 24, 78,
Christian Family Movement, 168, 177 80; on spirituality, 62; on touching,
Church. See Catholic Church 77
church, attendance at, 54, 55, 56–57 Council of Elvira, 61
The City of God (Augustine), 33–34, 86 Council of Nicaea, 61
cleanliness, 62 Council of Trent, 99–103, 106, 113–17
Clement of Alexandria, Saint, 19, 22– Courcon (cardinal), 86
26, 26n1, 77, 195 creation: Augustine on, 33–37, 40;
clergy, celibacy for, 61–66 Biblical accounts of, 5, 6, 7;
Code of Canon Law, 70, 75, 121, 133 Gnosticism and, 18–20; Jesus Christ
coitus interruptus, 114–16, 117 on, 7, 32, 35–36; in medieval church,
Columbo, Carlo, 181 100; in modern church, 101, 119,
communion. See Eucharist 127, 139, 142, 194–95; of sexual
conception, 148. See also contraception intercourse, 32, 40, 84
A Concordance of Discordant Canons Crowley, Patrick and Patricia, 168, 176,
(Gratian), 70–71 177, 185
concupiscence. See lust Cummean, 53
conditional acceptance, viii, 7, 8, 21 Cupid, 47n24
confession. See reconciliation Curran, Charles E., 160–61, 184
Confessions (Augustine), 29, 30
Congregation of the Holy Office, Damasus I, 62
113–14 Dante Alighieri, 7
conscience, 180–81 dark, 31–32
contraception: adultery and, 183; debt. See marriage debt
Anglican Church on, 131–32, Declaration on Religious Liberty,
133–34; in early church, 161; 180–81
Eucharist and, 120, 155, 206–7; Decretum (Burchard), 69–70
experience with, 155–61, 176–77, de Lestapis, Stanislas, 177
220 Index
Dennis (monk), 94 experience, 156–61, 169, 176–77, 205–8

de Riedmattan, Henri, 165 The Experience of Marriage, 156–60
de Salinis, Antoine, 117
desire: Augustine on, 34–35, 40; Bible Familiaris Consortio (John Paul II),
on, 7, 10, 11–12, 44; Council of 197–200
Trent on, 101; in early church, 24, fertility, 26, 116–17, 143. See also
25, 40; in medieval church, 80; in Natural Family Planning; rhythm
modern church, 190; sin and, vii, method
1–2, 3, 12, 34–35. See also lust; fidelity: in early church, 38–39; in
passion; pleasure medieval church, 79, 81, 85; in
De Smet, Alois, 125 modern church, 102, 109, 133
Dido, 47n24 Finnian, 53, 59
Dissertation on Conjugal Onanism flesh: in Bible, 13; in early church, 33;
(Nardi), 117 in medieval church, 53, 56, 58–59,
Dissertation on the Sixth Commandment 77; in modern church, 100
(Bouvier), 116 Ford, John, 168, 175, 176, 178, 181,
divorce, 7, 14, 39, 79, 100 182
Doms, Herbert, 122, 139–45, 195, 199 fornication, 39. See also adultery
Duns Scotus, 74–75 Francis de Sales, Saint, 108–11, 147
duty. See marriage debt friendship, 88, 89–90
Eastern Orthodox Church, 65 Galations, 13

eating, 19, 96, 97, 110 Gasparri, Pietro (cardinal), 121
education, 1–4 Genesis: Augustine on, 33–37, 40, 41;
Egbert (monk), 53–54 Council of Trent on, 100; creation
elephants, 110 account in, 6, 7; Gnosticism and, 18,
emotion, 93 19; Julian on, 44
Encratites, 19 Gilfeather, Brother, 2
Ephesians, 13–14, 32, 58–59, 108, 127 Gnosticism, 17–21, 23–24, 32
Erasmus, Desiderius, 105 God: abstinence and, 52; contemplation
eros, 196 of, 85–86; contraception and, 114;
Eucharist: abstinence and, 53, 56–57, creation by, 5, 6, 7, 100, 127, 142;
70, 103; celibacy and, 37, 61, 62–63, Gnosticism and, 18–20, 23; love
64–65; contraception and, 120, 155, of, 214; pleasure and, 6, 56, 209; in
206–7; Council of Trent on, 103; in Song of Songs, 7; union with, 103
Gnosticism, 19; Jesus Christ and, 141; good: Augustine on, 36; Gnosticism
penance and, 52; self-giving in, 141 and, 18; love as, 166; lust and, 36;
Eve. See Adam and Eve Manichaeanism and, 31; marriage
evil: Augustine on, 36–37; Cathars as, 36, 38–40, 56, 81, 84–85, 89–90,
on, 77; Gnosticism and, 18, 23, 24; 102, 133; passion as, 40; pleasure
Manichaeanism and, 31; marriage as, and, 39, 42, 85–88
56; pleasure and, 36–37, 39, 42–43, The Good of Marriage (Augustine), 30,
85–88 36, 37–40, 77
Exhortation to Chastity (Tertullian), Görres, Albert, 176, 184
21–22 Gousset, Thomas, 116
Index 221
grace, 83, 103, 147 Irenaeus, 26n1

Gratian, 70–71, 72, 73, 75, 211 Isaac, 11
Gregory VII, 65 Isidore (bishop of Seville), 51
Gregory XVI, 180–81
Gregory of Tours, 63 Jacob, 101
Gregory the Great, 54–55, 56, 72 Jansen, Cornelius, 107
Grisez, Germain, 178, 182 Jansenism, 107, 113
Guibert (cardinal archdeacon of Milan), Jerome, Saint, 37–38, 71, 101, 104n12
64 Jesus Christ: abstinence and, 58; on
creation, 7, 32, 35–36; divorce and,
Halitgar (bishop), 56 7, 14, 100; Eucharist and, 141; love
Häring, Bernard, 164, 165, 168 of, 13–14, 32, 81, 83–84, 102, 108,
health, 88, 95, 120 127, 134, 136, 141–42, 166, 198; lust
Hincmar of Reims, 73 and, 3; on marriage, 7, 77; Passion
Hinduism, 90 of, 83–84; return of expected, 9,
Hippolytus, 26n1 11, 12–13, 14; in Song of Songs, 7;
holy days, 53, 54, 56, 69–70, 103. See Thomas Aquinas on, 83–84
also Sabbath John, Saint, 56
The Holy Sacrament of Matrimony John XXIII, 163, 164
(Sanchez), 106–7 John of the Cross, Saint, 160
Holy Spirit, 75, 211 John Paul II, 140, 183, 189–200
Hosius (bishop), 61 Johnson, Luke Timothy, 199–200
Hugh of St. Victor, 74, 79 Jonas (bishop of Orleans), 56–57
Huguccio, 71–72, 74, 96 Joseph, 79
Humanae Vitae (Paul VI), 149, 182–85, Jovinian, 37–38
191, 193, 196–97, 206–7 Judaism, 10–11, 17, 20, 62, 70
Human Life in Our Day, 184, 206–7 Julian, Bishop, 44–46
human nature, 40–46, 75, 87, 93. See Justin, Saint, 24, 195
also nature
Humbert (cardinal), 65 Kaufman, Philip, 184
Hurth, Francis, 164 Kelly, George A., 177–78
Knaus, Hermann, 149
Ida of Boulogne, 58 Koch, Anton, 125–26
Ignatius (bishop of Antioch), 26n1, 78
In Defense of Purity (von Hildebrand), Lambruschini, Ferdinado, 182
126, 144 land, 64
Innocent, 44 Lateran Council, 66
Innocent II, 66 Laurentin, Rene, 164
Innocent III, 72 laws, 51. See also canon law
Innocent XI, 113–14 laxism, 107–8, 113
interior life, 134–36 Lecomte, Auguste, 117
Introduction to the Devout Life (Francis Léger, Paul, 166
de Sales), 108 Le Maistre, Martin, 95–96, 97
Iranian mythology, 17 Leo I, 62
Ireland, 51–52, 107 Leo IX, 65
222 Index
Leo XIII, 119 sin and, 35; rationality and, 38; Satan
Leviticus, 62 and, 12; sin and, 34–37, 39–40, 41,
life, 5 42–43, 44, 45; Thomas Aquinas
light, 31–32 on, 85, 86. See also desire; passion;
The Literal Meaning of Genesis pleasure
(Augustine), 34, 36 Luther, Martin, 105–6
Lombard, Peter, 73, 80
love: abstinence and, 58; Anglican Major, John, 96–97
Church on, 131–32; Augustine on, Mani, 30–32
40; Bible on, 13–14; Council of Manichaeanism: Augustine and, 29,
Trent on, 101–2; Doms on, 140, 30–33, 41, 44; Cathars and, 77; in
142; in early church, 40; Francis modern church, 150, 166–67
de Sales on, 108–11; of God, 214; Marcion, 19
as good, 166; Gousset on, 116; of Marcus Aurelius, 25
Jesus Christ, 13–14, 32, 81, 83–84, marriage: of Adam and Eve, 81, 100;
102, 108, 127, 134, 136, 141–42, Anglican Church on, 131; Augustine
166, 198; of lust, 89–90; in medieval on, 30, 32–40, 41, 45–46, 77, 80–81,
church, 57–58, 84, 89–90, 94; in 89–90, 102, 133, 195; at Cana, 56;
modern church, 101–2, 109, 114, Cathars on, 77; Catholic Church
116, 119, 125–29, 134–35, 136, 164, on generally, vii–viii, 4, 20–21,
165, 166, 169, 170–71, 177, 178, 163, 213–14; celibacy superior
182–83, 189–91, 192–93, 194–95, to, 12, 37–38; of clergy, 61–66;
197–200, 209–11, 214; papal consummation of, 73–74, 79, 100,
commission on, 177, 178; passion 121, 131, 132; Council of Trent on,
in, 6; Sanchez on, 107; in Second 99–103; as covenant, 169; death
Vatican Council, 164, 165, 166, 169, and, 21–22; debt in, 10–11, 22,
170–71, 182, 195; spirituality and, 38–39, 71–72, 74–75, 79, 84–85,
57–58, 125; Thomas Aquinas on, 84, 95, 103, 136; in early church, 8, 10,
89–90 11–12, 13–14, 21–26, 30, 32–40, 41,
Love and Responsibility (Wojtyla), 189, 45–46, 62; as evil, 56; experience
191, 197, 200 of, 155–61, 176–77; fidelity and,
Luke, Saint, 23, 77 38–39, 79; Gnosticism and, 17–18,
lust: Adam and Eve and, 42; Augustine 18–21, 23–24; as good, 36, 38–40,
on, 29–30, 34–37, 38, 39–40, 41, 42– 56, 81, 84–85, 89–90, 102, 133;
43; baptism and, 41; celibacy and, Jesus Christ on, 7, 77; laws on,
64–65; contraception and, 3; Council 51; Manichaeanism and, 32–33; in
of Trent on, 101; in early church, 8, medieval church, 51, 53–59, 69–75,
29–30, 34–37, 38, 39–40, 41, 42–43; 77–82, 83–90; in modern church,
Francis de Sales on, 109; good and, 3, 99–103, 105–11, 119, 121–22,
36; Jesus Christ and, 3; love of, 89– 125–29, 144–45, 163–71, 182–85,
90; Luther on, 105; marriage and, 53, 189–93; Paul, Saint, on, 10, 11–12,
54–55, 57, 78, 81, 85; in medieval 78, 108; purposes of generally,
church, 53, 54–55, 56, 57, 81, 93, 96; 37–40, 84–85, 100–101; rationality
in modern church, 3, 101, 119, 121, and, 33–37, 38; remarriage, 21–22;
135–36, 152, 190, 195, 196; original as sacrament, 38, 39, 73–75, 78–82,
Index 223
83–84, 89–90, 101–3, 108–9, 133, nature, 88–90. See also human nature
141; in Second Vatican Council, Nicholas I, 56
163–71, 195; for support, 100, 101, Nicholas II, 65
125, 194; Thomas Aquinas on, 83– Noonan, John, 72, 133–34, 168, 184
90, 140, 141; virginity and, 37–38, nursing, 38
55, 57, 100; of Virgin Mary, 79
On Marriage (Clement of Alexandria), Ogino, Kyusaku, 149
24 onah, 10–11
On Marriage and Concupiscence Onan, 114, 115–16, 120, 133
(Augustine), 36, 43 On the Moral Order, 164
marriage debt: in early church, 10–11, On the Morals of the Manichees
22, 38–39; in medieval church, (Augustine), 30, 32–33
71–72, 74–75, 79, 84–85, 95, 103; in On the Virginity of Mary (Hugh of St.
modern church, 136 Victor), 79
Marriage: The Mystery of Faithful Love orgasm, 19, 26, 72
(von Hildebrand), 126, 144 Origen, 7, 22
“Married Love and the Gift of Life,” 208 original sin, 35, 40–46, 86, 105
Marshall, John, 165 Ottaviani, Alfredo, 167–68, 175, 178,
Martos, Joseph, 46 181–82
masturbation, 118n4
Matthew, 100 Pantaenus, 23
Maximos IV Saigh, 166–67 passion, 6, 10, 11–12, 32–33, 40, 105.
The Meaning and End of Marriage See also desire
(Doms), 139, 144, 195 Passion (of Christ), 83–84
men, 5 Pastoral Constitution on the Church
menopause, 40, 143 in the Modern World, 163, 169–71,
menstruation, 38 175, 195
metaphor, 5 Patrick, Saint, 52
Middleton, Richard, 93–94 Paul, Saint: on abstinence, 52–53, 54,
mind, 95 62, 74, 99, 102, 111, 120, 151; belief
Mirari Vos (Gregory XVI), 180–81 about, 8; on children, 23; Gnosticism
Moral Questions (Le Maistre), 95, 96 and, 17–18; on love, 127; on
moral theology, 93–98, 113–17, 160–61 marriage generally, 9–14, 24, 38–39,
Moral Theology (Alphonsus Liguori), 45, 55, 58–59, 77, 78, 80, 108; on
113–15 sin, 41
Moral Theology for the Use of Priests Paul VI: Humanae Vitae, 149, 182–85,
and Confessors (Gousset), 116 191, 193, 196–97, 206–7; papal
Moses, 52, 53 commission on birth control, 165,
murder, 52 168, 178–79, 180; Second Vatican
myth, 5 Council and, 175
Pelagius, 40–41, 44, 46
Naj‘ Hammadi texts, 18 penance, 1–2, 52, 53–54, 58–59, 69,
Nardi, Maurus, 117 206. See also reconciliation
Natural Family Planning, 199, 208–9. penitential handbooks, 52, 53–54,
See also rhythm method 58–59, 69
224 Index
Penitential of Cummean, 53 I, 56; Nicholas II, 65; Paul VI, 149,

personalism: development of, 121–22, 165, 168, 175, 178–79, 180, 182–85,
126–29, 140; opposition to, 148–49, 191, 193, 196–97; Pius XI, 3, 43,
164; support for, 164, 171, 190, 198 132–36, 139, 149, 165, 175–76, 181;
Peter, Carl, 180–81 Pius XII, 147–52, 165; Siricius, 37,
Peter, Saint, 64–65 56, 62; Urban II, 65–66
Peter Damian, Saint, 64–65, 73 Potvin, Colette, 177, 185
physical reality, 18–21 Pouchet, Felix, 116
Pius XI: Casti Cannubii, 3, 43, 132–36, The Praiseworthy Life of the Married
139; contraception and, 133, 149, (Dennis), 94
165, 175–76, 181 prayer: in Bible, 10, 11; in early church,
Pius XII, 147–52, 165 23, 45; in medieval church, 52, 54,
Plato, 22, 93, 196 55, 70
Platonism, 40 pregnancy: abstinence during, 24, 26,
pleasure: Adam and Eve and, 34–35, 85; 53, 69, 71; pleasure and, 38, 96;
Augustine on, 32–37, 38, 40–46, 96; union and, 143. See also fertility
Bible on, 6–7, 10–11, 13; Cathars privacy, 36–37, 42, 44
on, 77; celibacy and, 2–3; Council private theologians, 72, 76n18
of Trent on, 102–3; in early church, Probst, Ferdinand, 125, 195, 198, 210
13, 23–26, 32–37, 35–36, 38, 40–46, procreation. See children
213–14; evil and, 36–37, 39, 42–43, promiscuity, 18–20, 23
85–88; Gnosticism and, 20; God and, Protestant Reformation, 99, 105
6, 56, 209; good and, 39, 42, 85–88; Pseudo-Bede, 52
Luther on, 105; Manichaeanism
and, 32–33; in medieval church, Quattrocchi, Luigi and Maria, 192
51, 55, 56, 71–72, 85–88, 93–98;
menstruation and, 38; in modern Rachel, 101
church, 106–7, 109–11, 113–14, 120, Raphael, 101
144, 150, 152, 191, 192, 209–10, rationality: of Augustine, 33–37, 38; in
213–14; nursing and, 38; pregnancy Gnosticism, 20; in Stoicism, 21, 23,
and, 38; Satan and, 24; sin and, vii, 25; of Thomas Aquinas, 85–88, 93
2, 3, 34–37, 38, 40–46, 51, 54, 55, Rebekah, 11
56, 71–72; Thomas Aquinas on, reconciliation, 51–52, 113–17, 119–20,
85–88. See also desire 206–7. See also penance
popes: Alexander III, 73–74; Damasus Reynaldo of Piperno, 90n1
I, 62; encyclicals of, 119, 132–36, rhythm method: development of,
139, 149, 151–52, 175–76, 180–81, 116–17; experience with, 155–61;
182–85, 191, 193, 196–200, 206–7; Natural Family Planning compared,
Gregory VII, 65; Gregory XVI, 180– 209; papal commission discusses,
81; Gregory the Great, 54–55, 56, 176–77; Pius XI on, 135; Pius XII
72; Innocent I, 44; Innocent II, 66; on, 149–50, 152. See also Natural
Innocent III, 72; Innocent XI, 113– Family Planning
14; John XXIII, 163, 164; John Paul Rolandus, 74
II, 140, 183, 189–200; Leo I, 62; Romans, 41
Leo IX, 65; Leo XIII, 119; Nicholas Ruffini, E., 167
Index 225
Sabbath, 53, 54, 56, 69. See also holy 44; Thomas Aquinas on, 85–88.
days See also individual sins; penance;
sacraments: Augustine on, 38, 39; reconciliation
Council of Trent on, 101–3; in early Siricius, 37, 56, 62
church, 38, 39; in medieval church, Sister Joseph Roberta, 1
73–75, 78–82, 83–84, 89–90; in Smith, Betty, vii, 213–14
modern church, 101–3, 108–9, 133, Soliloquies (Augustine), 33
141–42, 151; Thomas Aquinas on, Song of Songs, 6–7, 57
83–84, 89–90; virginity compared, Sophia, 19, 20
151. See also individual sacraments Soto, Dominic, 97
Sacra Virginitas (Pius XII), 151–52 spirituality: abstinence and, 73;
Sacred Penitentiary, 115–16, 117 Augustine on, 40; in Catholic Church
sainthood, 192 generally, vii; in early church, 8, 40,
Sanchez, Thomas, 106–7, 140 62; in Gnosticism, 18–21; love and,
Satan, 11, 12, 24, 31 57–58, 125; in medieval church, 57–
school, 1–4 58, 73, 84; in modern church, 125,
Second Vatican Council, 163–71, 180– 128–29, 134–35, 139–40, 171, 209–
81, 182, 195, 210 11; in Second Vatican Council, 171;
self-giving, 140–41, 171, 195, 198–99. senses and, 22; Thomas Aquinas on,
See also affection; support 84; union and, 139–40
senses, 22 spiritual reality, 18–21
Sentences (Lombard), 80 Stoicism: in early church, 21, 23–26,
Sextus, 71 32, 36–37; in medieval church, 51,
sexual positions, 54, 88 71, 93; in modern church, 102, 165,
shame, 36–37, 42, 44 191–92
sin: abstinence and, 52–54; Adam Suenens, Leon, 164, 166, 182, 185
and Eve as source of, vii, 34–35, Summa Theologica (Thomas Aquinas),
41, 81, 85–86, 151; Augustine on, 83
34–37, 39–46, 86; Bible on, 1–2, 41; support, 100, 101, 125, 194. See also
celibacy and, 64–65; children and, affection; self-giving
31–32; contraception as, 2, 114–16, Synod of Bourges, 65
117, 119–21, 135; cooperation Synod of Clermont, 66
in, 114–15; desire and, vii, 1–2, Synod of Lyon, 63
3, 12, 34–35; in early church, 11, Synod of Orleans, Fourth, 63
12, 34–37, 39–46, 86; fornication, Synod of Pavia, 65
39; Gnosticism and, 19; lust and, Synod of Toledo, 63
34–37, 39–40, 41, 42–43, 44, 45;
Luther on, 105; in medieval church, Ten Commandments, 1–2, 24
51–59, 70–72, 78, 80–81, 85–88; Tertullian, 21–22, 26n1, 41
in modern church, 106–7, 113–17, Theodore, 53
135, 151; original sin, 35, 40–46, Thomas Aquinas, Saint, 74, 83–90, 106,
86, 105; Paul, Saint, on, 41; pleasure 141, 148
and, vii, 2, 3, 34–37, 38, 40–46, 51, Timothy, 17–18, 66n1
54, 55, 56, 71–72; sexual positions Titus, 17, 66n1
and, 54; shame and, 36–37, 42, Tobit, 101
226 Index
touch, 86, 107, 109 Virgil, 47n24

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (Smith), vii, virginity: in early church, 11–12, 14,
213–14 21–22, 37–38; Gnosticism and, 20;
two-in-oneship, 139–45, 199. See also in medieval church, 55, 57, 79; in
union modern church, 100, 151–52. See
also abstinence; celibacy
union: Doms on, 139–45; John Paul Virgin Mary, 55, 58, 64, 79
II on, 190, 196, 198; Pius XII on, Visser, 178, 182
148–49, 150, 151; in Second Vatican von Hildebrand, Dietrich, 122, 126–29,
Council, 164, 171, 210–11 140, 142, 144, 195
Urban II, 65–66
Urbicus (bishop of Clermont-Ferrand), 63 Waletrude, 58
Weigel, George, 194
Valentinus, 19 William of Auxerre, 86
van Rossum, Willem Marinus, 165 Wojtyla, Karol. See John Paul II
Vatican Council, 163–71, 180–81, 182,
195, 210–11 Zalba, Marcelino, 168, 176, 178, 182
Vermeersch, Arthur, 132 Zeno, 23, 93

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Copyright © 2009 by Lexington Books

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Information Available

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

1 Biblical Approaches to Marital Sexuality 5

2 St. Paul’s Unwitting Contributions to the Church’s

3 Early Church Leaders Defend Marriage Against

4 Augustine: The Man Who Carved in Stone the Church’s

5 Monks, Theologians, Bishops, and Popes Disparage

6 The Law of Clerical Celibacy Embodies the Bias Against

7 Canon Law Sees Nothing Spiritual in Marital Intimacy 69

8 Marriage Recognized as a Sacrament 77

9 St. Thomas Aquinas: Modifications and Qualifications 83

10 Some Attempts to See Other Values in Marital Intercourse 93

11 The Council of Trent: Motives for Marrying and Motives for

12 A New Development: Spousal “Affection” Related to “Love” 105

13 Confessing Sins Related to Sexual Activity 113

14 Pope, Bishops, Theologians, and Canon Law Stress

15 A New Vision: Love Related to Marital Intercourse 125

16 The Teaching of Pope Pius XI: Procreation or Abstinence 131

17 A Rejected Perspective: Bodily Union as the “Direct Purpose”

19 The Effects of Papal Teaching: Frustration and Tears 155

20 The Second Vatican Council (1962–1965) Recognizes the

21 The Postconciliar Work of the “Birth Control Commission”

23 Conscience and Fidelity to Church Teaching 205

Mother Church has been an attitude of semi-rejection, or, at best, an attitude

I am grateful to friends and mentors who both inspired and encouraged

“MOM, WHERE DID WE COME FROM?”

CATHOLIC ELEMENTARY SCHOOL

CATHOLIC HIGH SCHOOL

That approach to sexuality continued through Catholic high school. In my

SENIOR YEAR RELIGION

THE TERRIBLE EVIL OF

Looking back at my twelve years of Catholic schooling, certain questions

1. The Official Revised Baltimore Catechism Number Two (New York: W. H.

IMAGES, MYTHS, AND METAPHORS

ATTITUDES FOUND IN BIBLICAL STORIES

In the Hebrew Scriptures there are at least four distinguishable attitudes

attitude reflects the goodness in the passionate experience of a man and a

Sexuality in the Book of Genesis

Sexuality and the Song of Songs

Jesus’ Attitude Regarding Marital Sexuality

THE CHURCH’S ATTITUDE

An outlook or attitude is a mental position one takes with regard to a thing,

1. W. Gunther Plaut, The Torah: A Modern Commentary (New York: Union of

FIRST CORINTHIANS—CHAPTER 7:1–40

Is It Good “Not to Touch a Woman”?

Judaism and Marital Sex

to mean that frequent intercourse is a man’s duty and a woman’s right. If a

Effects of Paul’s Compromise with the Corinthian Ascetics

A PREFERENCE FOR VIRGINITY?

Serving God with a “Divided Heart”

FLESH VERSUS SPIRIT IN GALATIANS 5

THE LETTER TO THE EPHESIANS: MARRIAGE IN CHRIST

Ephesians clearly demonstrates a positive attitude toward marriage and mari-

REFERENCES TO GNOSTICISM IN THE PASTORAL LETTERS

Timothy was warned to be wary of teachers claiming to have special