“we are gathered together here in the sight of God,
and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man and
this woman in holy matrimony.”
The congregation was silent in rapt attention, except for the
occasional cry of a disgruntled baby with little interest in the sacred
occasion at hand.
“Marriage is an honorable estate,” the minister
continued, “and not to be entered into lightly, but
reverently and soberly, duly considering the causes for which matrimony
was ordained.”
“First, it was ordained for the procreation of
children.”
At this point, a guest later reported, the calm was interrupted by an
involuntary snort of disapproval —
“humpf!” — from one of our relatives, who
crossed her arms in dismay at such an archaic notion.
That snort summed up a good deal of modern thought on childbearing. In
the United States and western Europe, married couples are having fewer
and fewer children, thanks in large part to the wide availability of
contraceptives, along with the rise of dual careerism in marriages.
Growing up, neither of us was taught to oppose contraception on
principle. Sam knew that the Catholic Church officially forbids it, but
assumed this was a superstition left over from the Middle Ages. Birth
control was never mentioned in his Baptist church. In high school, his
friends ridiculed the Catholic position — for them it was
enough to quote the lyrics from Monty Python’s satirical
song, “Every Sperm is Sacred.”
One afternoon in college, a friend of Sam’s remarked that she
had just read an article explaining why the pope was so opposed to
contraception. “I still don’t agree with
him,” she said, “but I was surprised that he
actually had reasons.” Sam’s curiosity was piqued,
and he decided to research the subject for himself. But, with no
prospects for marriage in the near future, he didn’t give it
too much thought.
As a teenager, Bethany occasionally discussed contraception with her
best friend. Though her mom had taught her to be wary of the Pill and
other hormonal contraceptives, Bethany still argued in favor of barrier
methods such as condoms. At age sixteen, she volunteered at a Crisis
Pregnancy Center staffed by women from a variety of church backgrounds.
She was surprised to learn that they didn’t recommend any
form of contraception, not even condoms, for their married clients.
Instead, the staff counseled women to become aware of their fertility
cycle and to use natural ways of spacing births. After receiving a
folder on these natural methods during her training, Bethany promptly
slid the information under her bed and thought,
“I’ll figure out what I believe about all this
later.”
The time to figure out exactly what we believed about contraception
came sooner than either of us expected. We met in January of 2000,
became engaged in May, and married in November. During our courtship,
the topics of birth control and having children came up early in
conversation. We wanted to make wise decisions in these areas and knew
that the issue of contraception wouldn’t go away by ignoring
it.
Unfortunately, we could find little wisdom on the subject from our
fellow Protestants. In most of the popular Christian relationship
guides, it is simply assumed that couples will be using contraception
and that this does not affect their marriage or “sex
life.” James Dobson, director of Focus on the Family, wrote a
book with the promising title Complete Marriage and Family Home
Reference Guide; but, disappointingly, it does not address the subject
of contraception within marriage.
Our experience was not unique. Kevin Offner, a friend of ours who works
with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship, was equally frustrated by the
lack of critical discernment on this topic. “When I was
engaged, ” he said, “I wanted to think through the
whole issue of birth control, so I consulted my married evangelical
friends. To a person, they all said, ‘Sure, of course we use
birth control.’ When I asked them why, bringing up the
concerns other Christians have, many of them answered, ‘You
know, I never thought about that! ’ ”
By the time we were engaged, it was clear to us that for love to
flourish, we had to grow in knowledge of and respect for each
other’s bodies — not just our minds and souls.
Thanks to a little thing called PMS, Sam quickly realized that
understanding the female fertility cycle is not an option —
it’s a vital part of learning how to love your spouse. You
ignore it at your peril. He wondered: Why shouldn’t the
fertility cycle be respected when it comes to sex? Why
shouldn’t husbands conform their desires and actions to the
natural rhythms of their wives’ bodies, rather than ignoring
or suppressing them? We decided it was time to look into those natural
means of child spacing.
We enrolled in a Natural Family Planning (NFP) home study course
offered by the Couple to Couple League. Sorting through all the
information was a bit daunting at first, but the more we read, the
easier it became to grasp. (In hindsight, we know the best way to learn
NFP is from a teacher, not a book. But at the time, we mistakenly
thought that a group class would be too embarrassing.) By studying NFP,
we learned far more about our bodies’ complementary designs
than we had ever been taught by doctors or health instructors. More
than that, we were prompted to communicate with each other on a deeper
level than before and were immersed in what we found to be a profound,
biblical perspective on the meaning of sex. Learning NFP is the best
way we can imagine to prepare for marriage.
Initially, we were interested in NFP because we hoped to avoid having a
baby right away. Though we both love children and want to have a passel
of them (whether by birth or by adoption), we figured it would be best
to wait until Bethany had finished college. That was the advice we were
given.
But as our wedding day approached, we found ourselves more and more
looking forward to having a child, and we decided not to put off having
a baby for our own convenience or because we were afraid our marriage
was not yet ready for such a test. God’s timing is different
for every couple, and some have legitimate reasons for postponing
children immediately after marriage, but we did not. We knew this was a
responsibility to be approached with fear and trembling but believed
that by inviting new life we would grow closer in ways we had yet to
fathom. Love, we discovered, cannot be contained in just two bodies.
Sam & Bethany Torode are freelance writers and graphic
designers who live in rural Wisconsin with their kids. This article is
adapted from the introduction to their book, Open Embrace: A Protestant
Couple Rethinks Contraception (Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Company,
2002). Sam was nice enough to let us post this excerpt from their book.
Copyright © 2002 Sam and Bethany Torode.