Celibacy: To Be or Not to Be Isn’t Really the Question October 24, 2008

What’s the thing that comes most often to people’s minds when you mention monastic life? It’s probably celibacy, which is the practice of abstaining from all sexual contact, although this varies – some include masturbation as a prohibited practice, while others are content to define celibacy as merely avoiding sex with other people. At any rate, because the two most commonly recognized monastic traditions (those of Christianity and Buddhism) in the Western world stress sexual continence for theological reasons, the association of celibacy with the life of a monk or nun has become an expectation.

Really, however, there is no reason for monastics in a Pagan tradition to be celibate merely as a matter of course. This is not to say that celibacy has no place at all; some traditions (reconstructed or modern) may emphasize the mindful use of sexual energy only in specific contexts. Those who serve as god-consorts are frequently asked to avoid sex with other humans, though this does not preclude sexual intimacy with the deity Him/Herself (although that is a subject for another post.) Illness is also a compelling reason; having AIDS or another STD means that you must act with extreme caution and discretion if you are going to engage in any sexual contact with someone else, and some might find that total abstinence is easier. And one might not wish for the most obvious, if not most immediate, consequence of sex – a child. But from what I understand, most modern Pagan traditions are fairly open about sexuality to some degree or another. Even the primary Old Norse sources refer to women taking lovers if they wish (not a common freedom even in ancient pagan societies) and have sometimes wry observations on the so-called “battle of the sexes” (see Lokasenna and Havamal, respectively.)

If celibacy is not an absolute requirement for a Pagan nun or monk, then when is it appropriate? In addition to the reasons I’ve given, if your deity or deities require it of you through examples from Their myths, customs from Their ancient worship or modern-day UPG, then that’s one instance. Another might be during certain times of year – some folks dedicated to underworld gods or who work with the dead might be required to abstain from sex for periods of time, for example. But largely, I see the question of whether or not to be celibate as a personal issue, one which the individual must decide for him- or herself based on how well s/he can balance a healthy sex life with the needs and demands of the vocation s/he has vowed to embrace.

Notice I said healthy. By this, I don’t mean that one must abstain from BDSM or other activities commonly viewed as “sick” or “wrong” by a good portion of mainstream society (though if you think it’s your right to force other beings into non-consensual sex you’ll get zero sympathy and a boot up the ass from me, if I ever find you). Aside from the fact that I’d be a flaming hypocrite for calling someone else’s kinks “unhealthy,” it’s not so simple as deciding that, say, anal sex is sinful and unworthy of a monk or nun. It’s more that a monastic should take care that whatever kind of sex one likes to have should make one and one’s partners happy and should not cause harm (which is different from merely hurting someone physically – harm causes lasting and/or psychological damage as well.)

Having a healthy sex life is a part of being a happy and fulfilled human being, and only the individual knows what s/he needs to have that healthy sex life – be it one regular partner, several partners, many partners, no partners, or some or all of these at various times. But we are all too often unaware of what we really need and want, because as much as Pagans would like to believe that we are radical thinkers, free of the blinders worn by so many others in Western society, the truth more often than not is that our private attitudes are just as unhealthy and warped as that of the culture we criticize for its sexism, misogyny and homophobia.

So celibacy might serve yet another purpose – that of allowing someone time and space to back off and figure out where he or she stands in matters of the boudoir. This can be incredibly useful, for without engaging in potentially harmful behaviors with possible emotional repercussions, it is easier to see patterns of behavior that might work against one. It’s also fair, because if you are going to take on the task of dumping your sexual baggage, it’s best that others don’t get dragged into it – unless they want to help, that is. Obviously, if you’re in a committed relationship your partner may not welcome the idea of no sex for a given period of time while you get your head together, so it depends on your situation. At any rate, temporary celibacy might be a useful tool to increase your mindfulness about why you do the things you do and with whom.

I was a god-spouse before I ever took up the work of priesthood or being a nun, and from the very start I was required to be celibate. I will not say that I had no sex life whatsoever. I am, after all, married and oathed to one of the lustiest, most seductive and most perverted gods in the Norse pantheon, if not the most, and while I don’t wish to discuss my private life in any great detail, let’s just say that I wasn’t abstinent in the truest sense. But I did not have sex with other mortals for quite a while because Loki insisted that it be that way.

At first I was under the impression that He was being jealous and possessive, which is a flattering, if somewhat self-aggrandizing, thought. Then I suspected it was because I was supposed to be celibate for priesthood reasons or because They wanted me to become a nun, but I soon decided that was ridiculous because I’m a Norse Pagan and don’t believe sex is inherently sinful outside of marriage, or must be given up entirely to transcend the physical world. I got no omens, signs or messages to confirm that suspicion, anyway. Finally, after several years, I figured out that Loki’s insistence had very little to do with me being His special little sugarplum or needing to remain abstinent to make me a better priest or nun. It was simply because I was not capable of viewing sex in a healthy way.

I would have seen this from the start if I had been half as mindful as I aspire to be. But better late than never, and at last I understood that because of low self-esteem, bad body image and a past history of what one might call unwise relationship choices, I was in no way capable of having a healthy sex life with another mortal at that point in time. But merely abstaining wasn’t the only way Loki chose to have me face this; a number of things happened that showed me that my ideas about myself and my sexuality weren’t exactly useful or healthy. It took a long time, and through it all (though His enemies would be amazed and dubious to hear it) Loki was entirely gentle and encouraging towards me as I struggled to see myself as I am rather than as I feared I was. Ultimately, Loki wanted me to be happy and have a healthier attitude (although I should point out that not all the gods care so much about whether I do my work smilingly or with bad grace – just that I do it.)

I now understand that as Loki’s wife and priestess, I have no desire for another serious, permanent relationship. However, this is not to say that I intend to remain abstinent for the rest of my life. There will be no need for that. But all this is entirely related to individual circumstance and not something that just automatically goes along with the job (nor with being a god’s consort; many god-wives or god-husbands have human partners as well.)

So I’d say that the real question Pagan monastics might want to ask ourselves is not “Should we be celibate?” but rather, “How mindful are we of our sexual expression, attitudes and relationships, and do those things help or harm us?” Finding the answers to that may take a long time, perhaps years, but the mindfulness necessary to cultivate a clear-eyed view of oneself is something which a monastic is already (presumably) striving for. Granted, communities are often torn apart by sexual jealousy, and while that is unavoidable to a degree, I don’t see it as my job to prevent that by writing draconian strictures against sex in my hypothetical, eventual Rule. I’m not entirely sure about how I’m going to address sexuality there, but I’m fairly certain at this point that it won’t be a simple set of “dos” and “don’ts”.