Real Talk on Sex and Marriage
“Have sex with as many people as you can, as many times as you can. Just be safe. You’ll never have this much freedom again.”
That’s what the Student Union told me more than twenty years ago when I started university.
Now things have moved on a bit. These days universities run consent workshops in Freshers week. The assumption is still: you will be having sex — the focus is just on making it safe and consensual.
Sex is treated as nothing more than an appetite. Hungry? Eat a Mars Bar. Horny? Have sex.
If the desire is there, it must be good. And it must be satisfied.
To do anything else is repression. That’s wrong. In our culture, to feel a desire and not act on it is to betray your very self.
And then the Bible comes along and says something absolutely revolutionary:
“Sex is a wonderful gift, given by God. But it is only for lifelong marriage between one man and one woman.”
That’s what we’re going to be thinking about today. Now, before you dismiss this as being outdated, prudish and utterly unappealing, consider this.
The Bible has a much higher view of sex than our culture does. A stupendously high view.
You see, the Bible says it’s is a sign. The act of union between a man and woman in all its intimacy, vulnerability, excitement and ecstasy is a picture, a signpost – towards God’s purposes for us and Him – in Jesus.
Now that is not outdated. Praise God. That is not prudish. Anything but. And that is not undesirable. It is the most desirable thing in the universe.
We’re in 1 Corinthians. Last week, David Cassidy walked us through the end of chapter 6 — reminding us who we once were, who we are now, and whose we are: God’s. Body and soul. And that changes how we use our bodies.
Now, we move into a transition in the letter. Paul continues speaking about sex, but this time he addresses specific questions the Corinthians raised. Look at verse 1:
“Now for matters you wrote about: ‘It is good for a man not to have sexual relations with a woman.’”
Now that’s not quite what the original Greek says. More literally it says:
“It is good for a man not to touch a woman”.
That could refer to sexual relations in general, but a detailed study of twenty-five non-biblical Greek texts shows that the phrase nearly always refers to sexual acts done to gratify self, not to love and serve another.
So as one commentator puts it. The saying is more like:
“It is good for a man not to bang a woman.”
To understand the radical nature of Paul’s teaching, we need a bit of context.
Last Sunday, David mentioned Tom Holland — the historian, not the Spiderman. In his book, Dominion, Holland describes first-century Roman sexual culture:
“In Rome, men no more hesitated to use slaves and prostitutes to relieve themselves of their sexual needs than they did to use the side of a road as a toilet. In Latin the same word, meio, meant both ejaculate and urinate.”
Sex in Rome was purely about appetite. Married men had sex with their wives — but only for children. For every other sexual need, they turned to prostitutes, slaves, even young boys.
And into that culture, that culture, Paul writes saying that sex is a gift to be given in marriage not an appetite to be satisfied. That’s our first point today. Look at v 2.
- Sex is a gift not an appetite – vv. 1-5
Because of sexual immorality, each man should have sexual relations with his own wife, and each woman with her own husband.
From the very beginning, God gave marriage as a gift to the world — not just to Christians, but to every culture. Genesis 2:24 lays it out with breathtaking simplicity:
“A man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh.”
You can trace three movements there — three steps in the dance of marriage.
(i) He leaves his father and mother
Firstly, the man leaves the security, the comfort, the familiar love of home. He steps away from the protection of that family. Now why would he do that?
(ii) He unites to his wife
Because he joins himself to his wife — not just physically, but spiritually, emotionally, publicly.
He makes solemn promises before God: “I will love, protect, share, and provide.”
It’s the language of covenant. The wedding vows — “for better, for worse… till death us do part” — are the walls that hold that covenant firm.
(iii) They become one flesh
And then, within that covenant, they become one flesh. The act of sexual intimacy is the seal of the covenant — a physical expression of the promises they’ve already made.
Tim Keller had a great illustration for this. He said, marriage is like a gem tumbler.
Do you know how they work? You put a couple of diamonds, that are all rough, in the tumbler. You shake it and the tumbler moves the diamonds around.
They’re constantly bumping up against each other and, as they do, you know what happens.
They knock the rough edges off each other until they become two beautiful, smooth diamonds.
The marriage covenant (the “till death us do part” promises) are like the walls of the tumbler.
If it weren’t for the walls, then after one or two clashes the stones would just roll away from each other
But the tumbler - it keeps them in creative conflict.
And apparently, the stones will crack and break unless you put a compound into the tumbler.
And the compound in marriage, Keller says, is sex, because in sex you’re saying to somebody else: “I belong to you completely and exclusively.”
It’s a vivid, physical sign of what your covenant promises of marriage mean.
You expose yourself, make yourself vulnerable because you belong completely, exclusively and irrevocably to the other.
Sex is the uniting act that enables you to bump up against each other in all the difficult decisions of life and be made more beautiful rather than broken and cracked.
Sex is the compound.
But here’s the thing, if you use sex outside those confines, it has the completely opposite effect.
Instead of helping you to trust yourself, body and soul, to another, it actually destroys your ability to trust and be vulnerable with another.
That’s what the Bible teaches. But I think you probably know that anyway, don’t you.
Look, in a group this size, I know there will be many here who have already experienced sex outside of marriage.
I don’t like doing this, but just think back to how it felt the morning after.
You had that experience. That extraordinary, vulnerable, uniting experience.
And you woke up the next morning. And you had no idea what the other person thought about you. How committed they were to you. Whether they would even be there the next day.
Now, the only way you deal with that. The only way is by hardening yourself.
By reasoning that sex is simply an appetite to be satisfied not an expression of extreme vulnerability to be given.
And the moment you do that, sex ceases to be an act that enhances trust.
And becomes a lightning rod for insecurity.
That’s why Paul says sex is a gift to be given in marriage, not an appetite to be satisfied.
In Corinth, that idea was revolutionary.
In Roman culture, sex was all about power and pleasure. Men could use whoever they wanted — wife, slave, prostitute — because their bodies belonged to them.
And into that culture, Paul writes something staggering.
Look at verse 3 — duty, not right. Verse 4 — equality, not dominance.
“The wife does not have authority over her own body,” Paul says — every Roman would nod along.
“But the husband does not have authority over his own body,” Paul continues — and every Roman would gasp.
This is radical mutuality. Sex isn’t about taking what’s mine, but giving what’s yours.
Before I was a pastor I taught Law at university, and for a moment let me just put my law lecturer hat back on.
Historically, English law was based upon duties.
Citizens owed duties to the crown.
And they owed duties to each other – not to negligently harm each other; not to break contractual promises.
Law was based around duties – what I owe others.
But in modern times, we’ve shifted toward rights — what others owe to me.
The focus has moved from what I give to what I get.
Paul calls us back.
Sex, he says, is not about asserting my rights but about fulfilling my duty — my covenantal duty to love, serve, and give myself to my spouse.
Our body is not our own. We have given it, in marriage, to our spouse.
Look, we can tut-tut at the Roman view of sex. Criticise it for its misogyny. And it was misogynistic. But the truth is, not much has changed.
We’ve just democratized the approach. Now everyone has the “right” to use everyone else, as long as it’s “consensual.”
That’s the logic of Tinder: mutual consumption disguised as connection.
And it shows us that our appetites are wildly out of control.
Look, there is nothing wrong with sexual desire. It is given by God, and it is good.
But seeking to satisfy our sexual desire by going to Tinder or pornography or masturbation is like a 25 stone man going to MacDonalds for dinner every night. It spells death.
The safe place — the only safe place — for sex is marriage.
That’s why verse 3 tells us that husband and wife have a duty to give themselves to each other.
But what does that mean in practice? How often.
Well, it will depend upon circumstances, on stage of life. Jewish tradition took one’s marital duty very seriously. Rabbi Eliezer said that a wealthy man should make love to his wife every day; a workman twice a week, while a camel driver was only once a month.
Circumstances matter. And remember that this was a duty owed by the husband not a right owed to the husband.
That means consent is key. In fact, one of the references to a man touching a woman using the language of verse 1, the very thing which is being criticised, was a man having sex with his wife when she was not available. That is abuse, and it breaks a marriage.
But a husband and wife should willingly and regularly give themselves to each other.
That is the norm. Sex can be paused – verse 5 – but only by mutual consent and for good reason. Because else Satan with have a field day with our self-control.
You see, sex is the glue of marriage. It is the compound that enables us to bump up against each other in all the conflict of raising kids, paying bills, dealing with in-laws — without flying apart.
It’s where we are fully seen, fully known, and yet fully loved.
And in that sense, sex is a signpost to the gift of the gospel itself.
Because the good news of Jesus Christ is that we are seen as we truly are — naked in our sin, exposed in our rebellion — and yet, through Jesus being punished in our place, we are drawn close and clothed in His righteousness.
He gave Himself completely for us — body and soul — so that we might be united with Him forever.
Sex, in all its beauty and vulnerability, whispers of that greater union.
Sex is a gift, not an appetite.
- Singleness is a gift not a curse – vv. 6-9
But what about those of us who’ve never had sex?
Who’ve never been married, and — if we’re honest — probably never will be, whether by choice or by circumstance?
Look at verse 6. Paul says:
“I say this as a concession, not as a command.”
That one line would have stunned any Jewish listener.
They’d have been nodding along through verses 1–5 — “Yes, yes, marriage is good, sex in marriage is right.”
Then verse 6 lands like a thunderclap: marriage is a concession, not a command.
In first-century Judaism, you couldn’t become a priest or a member of the Sanhedrin unless you were married.
Marriage was the badge of maturity, stability, and respectability.
But here’s Paul — a single man — saying, “Actually, marriage is optional.”
That was revolutionary.
And then in verse 8 he doubles down:
“To the unmarried and the widows I say: It is good for them to stay unmarried, as I do.”
Good. The word he uses there — kalos — means right, beautiful.
He’s not just tolerating singleness; he’s honouring it.
Now, Paul’s realistic. He knows not everyone can handle it — verse 9 says some should marry rather than “burn with passion.”
But notice what he’s done: he’s put singleness and marriage on the same level of dignity, both gifts from God for serving Him.
So friends, singleness is a gift, not a curse.
I’m not going to say much on this because Matt will come back to it next week in the second half of the chapter.
But let me just say that singleness, like marirage, is a gift with a purpose.
Remaining single, Paul says later in vv. 32–35, allows us to be undivided in our devotion to Christ.
It enables us to fix our hope on the future rather than becoming preoccupied with the present – with bills, nappies, in-laws, school runs.
One woman who lived that out was Amy Carmichael.
In 1895, Amy left her home in Ireland and sailed to India as a missionary.
She never married. Instead, she poured her life into rescuing girls trapped in temple prostitution.
Over the years, she became “Amma” — mother — to hundreds of children who found safety and love in her care.
And in her book, A Chance to Die, she wrote:
“I never married; but I have had many children. God has given me hundreds of daughters to care for, train, and bring to Himself.”
Isn’t that beautiful?
Look, I know singleness is hard.
And I know that there are few things harder than listening to a married pastor with children talk about the gift of singleness.
But I need you to know, I need you to know, that you were made for something better than sex.
How do I know that?
Well, because the most fully alive, most complete human being who ever lived — the Lord Jesus Christ — never married, never had sex, and never will.
And yet He is whole. He is joy itself.
Our culture says you are what you feel.
Jesus says you are what you were made for — relationship with Him.
That’s what all desire points to.
And this life — single or married — is about learning to shift our deepest affections from fleeting things to the One who never leaves us empty.
But yes, it can be lonely before that time when we meet Him face to face
The Bible is honest about that. Genesis 1 tells us that we were made for relationship. Genesis 2 says: “It is not good for man to be alone”.
Which means that in a broken world, we will feel lonely.
According to a 2024 study by the Centre for Social Justice, 58% of single people in the UK say they often feel lonely.
But here’s the surprising part: 30% of married people said the same thing. Because marriage is not the panacea we are looking for.
- A hard marriage is a gift not an excuse – vv 10-16
And that brings us to our final point:
A hard marriage is a gift, not an excuse.
As a pastor, I sometimes have people come to me lamenting the fact they’re single and saying, “I just haven’t found the right person at City Church.”
Even more concerning, sometimes I have married members come to me and say: “I need your help. I think I’ve married the wrong person!”
Well guess what, “you have”.
What’s more “they have”.
We all have.
There’s no “right person”.
There is only one sinner marrying another sinner.
And if, by some miraculous stroke of providence, you have managed to marry someone who you have never found irritating.
Guess what, they’ll change. And you’ll change. And before long, you’ll realise you’ve married the wrong person too.
This side of Christ’s return there are no perfect marriages.
That’s something the church in Corinth needed to learn. Look at vv 10-16.
Paul begins by restating Jesus’ teaching on marriage from Matthew 19: marriage is for life, and it’s broken only by adultery.
But then he turns in v 12 to address a specific issue that had arisen in the church in Corinth.
You see, in this young church, many had come to faith while their spouses hadn’t.
Now, Paul is absolutely clear later on in v. 39, that a Christian should only marry a believer.
But these were people who were already married to unbelievers when they got saved.
And now they find themselves sleeping in the same bed, but living for entirely different kingdoms.
Two hearts beating to completely different rhythms.
And they were asking Paul: “What do we do now? Should we leave?”
It would have been tempting to think that way.
Life would have been hard: awkward meals, divided priorities, different moral codes.
And behind their question was a real theological concern: “Will my spouse’s idolatry rub off on me — or worse, on our children?”
In Jewish thinking, impurity was contagious. If you touched something unclean, you became unclean too.
Holiness didn’t spread; defilement did.
But Paul turns that logic upside down.
He says: “No, in this case, holiness is contagious.”
If you’re the believer in that home, your faith sanctifies – makes holy - your spouse and your children (v.14).
Not meaning they’re automatically saved — verse 16 makes that clear.
But it means your presence in your family is a gift, where they get to see the gospel lived out in 4K colour and beauty.
And the same is true in any hard marriage involving a Christian.
Look, I know that some of you are in hard marriages.
It’s not that your spouse is an unbeliever — you just find them incredibly difficult to live with.
They say things that cut deep.
They do things that break trust.
And sometimes, honestly, you just want to give up.
You know exactly what Proverbs 21:9 means:
“Better to live on the corner of a roof than share a house with a quarrelsome spouse.”
But here’s the thing — a hard marriage isn’t a dead-end. An excuse for giving up.
It’s a gift — a painful, refining, grace-filled gift — through which God shapes you into the likeness of Christ.
Every marriage is hard. If you doubt it, just ask Anna. She’s a saint. She’s been married to me for 22 years.
But her experience and my experience is that we have grown most in our love for Jesus, most in our grasp of grace, most in our understanding of sin and the delicious goodness of the gospel – as we have walked through the darkest valleys in our marriage.
And friends in those times, you get to model the gospel of grace to your spouse, to your children – in a way that shows that the gospel is not just good news to believe – but good news to live.
News that transforms even the darkest of situations with resurrection hope. There is never a hopeless marriage.
Except in situations of abuse, desertion or adultery – it is always right to stay. Not easy but right.
And it is a gift for us to grow in holiness and for those around us to see the beauty, and taste the sweet goodness of the gospel.
But what will enable us to do that? Well, listen to Tim Keller again.
He says, when we become obsessed with sex and marriage – whether it be a good marriage or bad, it’s like reaching a sign on the M6 for the Lake District, pulling over into the layby and camping out next to it.
We are confusing the sign and the reality.
Friends, we need to go to the one who sex and marriage ultimately point to.
He’s the one who saw us in all our sin and brokenness — exposed, unfaithful, unlovely — and didn’t walk away.
Instead, He was exposed for us on the cross.
He was forsaken for us.
So that we could be forgiven. So that we could experience the intimacy we were made for. The beautiful, all-satisfying embrace of the kiss of God.
That is the power which will keep us going - whether in the loneliness of singleness or of a hard marriage.
Not willpower, but wonder.
Not determination, but delight in the One who first loved us.
It gives you the strength to love when you’re not loved back.
To forgive when it feels impossible.
To hope when the relationship seems hopeless.
Because we were made for one who is risen from the dead. And He is ours. Body and soul.
Will you receive him today?
