By ALICE von HILDEBRAND
My Dear Friend:
A young acquaintance of mine, who seems to have a serious religious vocation, told me that her “friends” accused her of prudishness because of her systematic refusal to get involved in what are called “affairs.” Someone even urged her to undergo psychiatric treatment.
It never occurred to these well-intentioned “friends” that — true as it might be that some people have a psychological fear of sex, and dread the self-donation which it implies — (for the plain reason that there is an obstacle in themselves which blocks this self-giving), there might be very different reasons for turning away from the sexual sphere.
This young girl — far from refusing a gift of self to another person, wants to give herself totally and completely to God — a donation which, in fact, goes much further and deeper in its consequences than the beautiful act of self-donation which is achieved in the intimacy of marriage. She is not at all prudish; she is pure and chaste.
Once again, we are back to our great theme: misleading similarities. From the outside the two cases we have mentioned can easily be confused. In both cases, persons shy away from the sexual sphere. But both their intentions and their basic attitudes are radically different.
In the first case, we have a person who refuses to give herself; she wants to keep herself to herself, and dreads the intimacy which the sexual sphere implies. In the second case, we are dealing with a person who, understanding the mystery and depth of the sexual sphere, and its being an expression of a total self-donation, pledges to keep this sphere sealed for God, and in so doing, keeps nothing to herself, but she gives everything to God.
The same would apply if, understanding the depth and sublimity of the sexual sphere, she would refuse to have “affairs,” and keep her body virginal until God sends her the one partner with whom she wants to share her whole life.
Footnote: We do not deny that there might be cases in which a person, dreading sex, “escapes” into the religious life, but such persons — unless their attitude be corrected — will make very poor monks or nuns. (End of footnote.)
Purity and prudishness are as antithetical as two things can be. The pure person — keenly aware of the mystery and depth of the sexual sphere — will keep it reverently sealed either as a total donation to God, or until its unveiling becomes legitimate in marriage, when — with God’s approval — this unveiling acquires its deepest meaning as an expression of self-donation in the fulfillment of spousal love.
The prude — outwardly performing the very same gestures of covering herself — is doing something fundamentally different: Far from understanding the beauty and mystery of sex, she views it as something shocking, repulsive, low, and even though, deep down she may long for and crave it, she is incapable of realizing it because of some psychological block in herself. Because of this block, she is then likely to disparage and vilify this sphere as “sour grapes” because she is incapable of plucking them. (This thought found a marvelous expression in a fable of La Fontaine in which a fox calls “sour” the grapes he cannot reach.)
St. Paul tells us that “for the pure, everything is pure.” We could add for the prudish person, everything is impure. The pure, understanding the mystery of sex, also understands that it is to be spiritualized and elevated through love, and that it can only find its true expression in marriage.
The prude sees sex as evil, and therefore, whether legitimate or illegitimate, will look down upon it with contempt, as an expression of animality, and in so doing, will feel that she is particularly pure and spiritually minded.
Interestingly enough, some prudes have a fascination with sex and feel it to be their particular mission in life to detect in others real or imaginary infractions against the Sixth Commandment. They feel called upon to spy on the conduct of others, detect impure conduct wherever they go, interpret every innocent sign of affection as proof that fornication is in the wings, and when they happen to be right, they feel like victors, gleefully spread the scandal and publicly correct and castigate the culprits. They smell impurity everywhere and do not realize that it is in their nostrils.
A pure person has a feeling of holy bashfulness toward sex because it is such a mysterious sphere, a self-revelation, and because it is related to procreation in which God Himself collaborates with the parents in creating a new human soul. Whereas holy bashfulness is proper to something sacred, intimate which for this reason makes us sweetly blush when we approach it, shame is the due response to what is base, impure, mean, and ugly. Woe to the society which has no shame.
Today, alas, the climate of the time fosters shamelessness and the words of Zephaniah come to mind: “The unjust know no shame” (3:5). And Jeremiah writes: “Were they ashamed when they committed abomination? No, they were not at all ashamed; they did not know how to blush” (6:15).
What is less prudish than the question of the holy virgin when informed that she has been chosen to be God’s mother? “How can this be for I know not man?” She openly referred to the mysterious connection between the sexual sphere and procreation, but does it with the decorum and holy reserve typical of those whose heart is pure.
Indeed, blessed are the pure for they shall see God. I hope these few remarks will help you “discriminate” between these two attitudes which are so radically different.
I am sure you will agree with me that this topic is particularly important in the society in which we live, which majors in confusions, and tacitly identifies purity with prudishness.
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