Muslim Sex Advice
There’s a really interesting article by Samer Elatrash up on the Maisonneuve site entitled Muslim Sex. It notes that there’s a tradition within the Muslim faith for asking sex-related questions of both the Prophet Muhammad himself, as well as of one’s local clerics. The idea of asking a religious leader for sex advice is definitely a strange one, to me, but makes a certain kind of sense as well. While I think modern-day people are more likely to ask for advice from a trusted friend, medical doctor, or anonymous sex columnist, those of a certain age group may have gone to their church for advice, back in the pre-Internet days. I guess my question is: should this practice of asking your cleric for sex advice continue?
The Prophet Muhammad (image via Wikimedia)
If your goal is to lead a moral life and get into your religious community’s particular brand of Heaven, then yes, I suppose there is merit in asking a religious leader to give their opinion about your sexual issues. After all, they’ve got a direct line to god, right? And god certainly isn’t going to steer you wrong when it comes to anal sex and golden showers!
If, on the other hand, you’re asking more because you want to know whether or not your secret fetish is considered socially acceptable, or even normal, well, you’re barking up the wrong tree. As I said in my comment on the piece, I think that asking sexually mature friends or lovers, or even sexperts and medical practitioners is more relevant in terms of getting up-to-date advice that may impact one’s health. Coming from a Catholic background, I know I would find the concept of asking a sexually celibate (and possibly even virginal) priest for sex advice pretty pointless. Additionally, the skeptic in me would wonder whether relevant moral advice regarding sexual practices could be gained from someone who might be guilty of diddling the altar boys in his spare time—but I’ll admit that this is a special issue for those of the Catholic faith to wrestle with. (Let’s, for now, ignore the fact that the Prophet married his wife Aisha when she was only 6 years old, consummating their marriage when she was only 9 or 10.)
Still, asking for a cleric’s interpretation of what is actually written in a holy book seems like a bit of an exercise in futility. Certainly, there are no direct comments in the Quran concerning cybersex or Internet pornography—neither of which had been invented at the time of the Prophet’s dictation—and clerics would be forced to stretch interpretations of other items that may be only tangentially related, in order to offer useful advice to their followers. So does this really benefit the questioning lay person, in search of spiritual guidance? And should spirituality really restrict bedroom activities?
To me, the concept of a god who frowns upon expressions of love is a difficult one to swallow. If there exists a divine being—or beings—that created all that exists, should we not consider the possibility that this being would view all of his or her creation as “good”? Our actions and additions to these original creations can certainly pervert that which is good (see: guns, drugs, and “Christian rock”), but the body itself—along with all of its fluids and functions—are usually viewed as one of this being’s creations. How, then, can the body be bad? How can consensual acts between adults be immoral or wrong? And are we really going to split pubic hairs and argue with clerics about spitting versus swallowing?
If you truly believe that every sperm is sacred, you’ll always feel guilty about spilling seed that doesn’t result in the birth of a child—no matter what your cleric tells you. So in the end, I think it’s really about an individual’s sexual comfort level. As a sex writer, I feel that sex advice is what you make of it. Maybe it rings true and maybe it doesn’t, but no matter how many people you poll for opinions, ultimately it’s up to you to decide which way you feel. Like it or not, we’ve all got free will, and if your sexual proclivities are going to keep you out of Heaven, it’s up to you to decide whether or not you care.
