Sex In The Sanctuary. Lutishia Lovely
her to go on. “S.O.S.,” she continued, “stands for the Sanctity of Sisterhood.” She waited a beat while everyone replayed the name in their minds.
“As you know, sanctity means set apart, holy and sacred, among other things. I believe that we as sisters, as women of the faith and as women in general, have gotten away from the sanctity and solidarity that our being female used to mean. I’ve had this on my heart for a while now, and recent conversations have only served to stir it up again.
“What exactly do you mean?” Ruth asked, leaning forward and tilting her head slightly as she squinted against the sun sparkling off the ocean waters. “Are you talking about women being more Godly, treating themselves with more respect?”
“Themselves and each other. Following the golden rule of doing unto others as you would have them do unto you. It seems we don’t respect each other anymore, we don’t care about each other anymore, and I guess that does come from not being Godly and not caring about ourselves. Even more to the point, ladies, I’m talking about our behavior with the opposite sex. The standard of decency has been lowered dramatically, and now it’s survival of the fittest when it comes to relationships, both forming and sustaining them. For instance, I remember a time when it was not okay to go after someone else’s boyfriend, much less her husband. Those times, sadly, are a thing of the past.”
“It still ain’t all right to go after mine,” Carla insisted with a look of indignation.
The ladies nodded and murmured their agreement as Vivian continued.
“Of course it’s not all right, Carla, but try and tell that to Susie Q. Single down the street. We used to respect what belonged to other people. We used to think more of ourselves than to try and entice a husband away from his family, or a man away from a committed relationship. And if we knew someone who was like that, that person was not popular. They didn’t flaunt their actions for the world to see because other women just wouldn’t stand for it. Older women would give her a piece of their mind and younger ones would shun her company. And I’m not putting all of the blame on women, because there used to be a higher standard for men, too. However, I am focusing on women because that’s whom this fellowship is designed to reach. Now, I’m not saying that we were perfect, but there used to be a time when we didn’t just open our legs for every Tom, Dick and Harry that came along.”
“You better preach, sister,” Minister Rebecca intoned. “I counsel women all the time who are hurting behind some aspect of male/female relationships. And it usually centers around three things. Usually they are single and celibate wanting to get married, single and fornicating wanting to get married, or married and not happy often because of the constant self-applied pressure to keep her man.”
“Been there, done that,” Carla replied.
“I have these conversations all over the country, all the time,” Rebecca repeated for emphasis. “Most of the pain I encounter centers around either the need or desire for a relationship, or the pain caused by one that is not working well.”
“Exactly,” Vivian continued, her friend’s comments confirmation that she was on the right track. “I became filled with all these questions. Why is this happening? Why do we not value ourselves more? Why are we so careless with other people’s feelings, with our own? Why is it no longer unusual to have multiple partners—even in this age of AIDS—for some women to sleep with five, ten, even fifteen men or more during their lifetimes? Why is virginity such a rarity and celibacy so unappealing? Why are there so many single women in the church? Why aren’t there more marriages? Why is there adultery in so many Christian marriages? Why is the divorce rate in the church the same if not higher than that of the general society, and why are seventy percent of Black children born out of wedlock with an inordinate amount of those pregnancies happening within our church walls?”
“That’s a lot of questions!” Carla exclaimed.
“Seventy percent?” Ruth inquired incredulously. “Are you sure?”
Chanelle, petite and soft-spoken, nodded. “I heard that statistic recently. It was while listening to one of those talk shows on my way home, the Larry Elder Show. Most of the time I can’t stand the man, I think he’s arrogant and ignorant, but on this topic we were in total agreement. Seventy percent is too many kids, Black or otherwise, to be born without intact families. But that rate is only in the Black community. I think for Whites it went down to fifty-five percent and for Hispanics it was in the twenties or thirties. Don’t quote me, but the percentages were in that range.”
Vivian held out her hand, counting on her fingers as she went on. “One. Men aren’t getting married because they don’t have to. Like my grandmother used to say, ‘Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?’ We don’t make them wait anymore, or want anymore; we give it up too easily and too frequently. Sex is like chewing gum these days—everybody’s got a piece. Two. When a woman is married or in a committed relationship leading to marriage, other women don’t consider these men off limits. Instead of seeing it as a chance for another sister’s happiness, they see it as a challenge to their own. And don’t let the sister try to do the right thing and remain chaste until marriage. Sex becomes the carrot the other woman dangles to get the greyhound around the track. Three. Because relationships are being entered without commitment, they fail easily, leaving behind a trail of broken hearts, bruised spirits and empty promises. All of this gets put into a nice grocery bag to be carried into the next relationship. Oh, and there might be a child or two in that grocery bag, and that’s a whole ’nutha issue.”
“I don’t know if this is an issue we can tackle in one Saturday,” Carla twanged. “Just trying to get women to keep their panties up and their dresses down could be the whole day.”
Vivian smiled. That was one of the things she loved about Carla, that she was real. None of that I’m-so-heavenly-bound-I’m-no-earthly-good stuff, or that I’m-so-o-o-o spiritual mentality; Carla was open and honest about her own past, which made it easy for her to sympathize and be nonjudgmental of others. Her Ladies First sessions were always overbooked.
“You’re right, Carla,” Vivian responded. “That is why I have a proposal that this next fellowship not be one Saturday, but a series of four Saturdays during the month of September.” Vivian reached into her Gucci purse and pulled out some papers, passing them around before continuing. “Ladies First. The S.O.S. Summit” was in large, bold type across the top of the first page. “This series,” Vivian continued, “would cover four specific areas, one per Saturday, following the “S” theme: Spiritually Speaking, Sacred Sex, Setting the Standard versus Society’s Status Quo, and the Sanctity of Sisterhood.” The ladies glanced through the outlines Vivian had distributed as she spoke.
Pat asked a question as she looked at her copy. “Why isn’t there anything about men in here? When it comes to adultery, affairs, fornication, all of what we’re discussing, they’re just as much to blame as we are.”
“True,” Vivian answered quickly, having considered this herself. “But like I said earlier, this meeting isn’t for or about men; it’s about women. Let’s let our husbands handle the brothers.”
Rebecca signaled the waiter for more water, and asked, “Why are we calling this a summit instead of a conference?”
“Ooh, thanks, Rebecca,” Vivian answered. “I meant to address that first. When God was speaking to me about this, He specifically said ‘summit’ and not ‘conference.’ I was confused at first because when I looked this up in a meeting context it said ‘a meeting between two heads of state.’ However, when I researched the meaning further, I understood God’s intent for this meeting. The summit is the apex, crown, head, height, peak, pinnacle, it’s the very top. These words and other definitions are in your packets. God has said this is what we’re reaching for in our relationship with Him and each other. And that we will be the ‘heads of state’ in the state of our womanhood, the state of our well-being and self-esteem, the state of our sexuality and spirituality. We will be the head and not the tail!”
“Well, God betta’ talk about His daughters!” Carla crooned while swaying in her