Earlier this week, my husband and I watched the Netflix documentary Death of a Pastor’s Wife, which chronicles the heartbreaking circumstances surrounding the death of pastor’s wife Mica Miller and the allegations of abuse involving her pastor-husband, J.P. Miller.
I had followed Mica’s story from the beginning, but seeing so much of it assembled in one place brought everything into even sharper focus for me.
I shared some brief thoughts on social media earlier this week, but I’ve continued thinking about the documentary, particularly some of the teachings highlighted in it that so many people are now talking about. Unfortunately, versions of these teachings are not confined to one pastor or one church. They have been prevalent in parts of the evangelical church for a very long time. And maybe seeing where this kind of thinking can lead will help us recognize just how harmful it can become. Because this documentary isn’t only about J.P. Miller or Mica Miller. It has implications for the church at large. Some of our messaging about marriage and sex has been dangerous, and we need to do better.
Regular, mutually desired sex is extremely important and a normal part of a healthy marriage.I am not advocating for sexless marriages. I’m not suggesting that physical intimacy doesn’t matter. It greatly matters. Barring medical issues, significant life circumstances, or other legitimate challenges, healthy married couples should be enjoying regular sexual intimacy. When something is interfering with that part of the relationship, both spouses should care about it. They should communicate honestly, seek help when necessary, and work together toward a healthier and more fulfilling sex life.
So please don’t hear something I’m not saying.
What I am saying is that the “obligation sex” message needs to stop.
There is a vast difference between teaching that sex is an important part of marriage and teaching that one spouse is therefore entitled to the other spouse’s body on demand. I wish I could say I never believed any version of this teaching. But in my younger years, I did believe there was some validity to it. My husband never said anything negative to me in this regard. I had simply been proverbially beaten over the head with this message by other people through preaching, teaching, Christian marriage books, and even pastor’s wives who insisted this was God’s plan for marriage. I heard it so frequently and from so many Christian sources that I assumed it must be biblical. I’m not the only one. Millions of other women have absorbed this message too. Along the way, I came to understand not only how wrong this teaching is, but how coercive and abusive it can become.
Thankfully, my husband has never said anything remotely like, “If you won’t have sex with me, someone else will,” or, “If you won’t have sex with me, I’ll have to resort to porn.” Let me tell you something: if he ever tried to use either of those lines on me, it would be a very, very, very bad day for our marriage. Because that isn’t intimacy. It’s coercion and abuse. At some point, I finally recognized how icky, gross, and damaging this message is. I stopped repeating it, stopped endorsing it, and stopped recommending marriage resources that teach anything remotely resembling it. And unfortunately, if we cleaned this teaching out of Christian marriage literature, we’d have a whole lot of books headed for the trash. In fact, it’s hard to find any Christian marriage book that doesn’t contain the obligation message.
For decades, Christian women have been told in books, conferences, Bible studies, sermons, and marriage ministries that keeping their husbands sexually satisfied is not simply an important part of nurturing their marriage…it is their obligation. And sometimes the warning attached to that obligation has been even worse: if you don’t provide enough sex, don’t be surprised if your husband turns to pornography, looks at other women, or has an affair.
Think about what that message actually does. It takes responsibility for a man’s sexual choices and places it on his wife’s body. His pornography becomes her failure. His infidelity becomes her failure. His lack of self-control becomes her failure. And sex becomes something she may feel compelled to provide not because she desires intimacy with her husband, but because she has been taught to fear what might happen if she doesn’t. That isn’t healthy Christian marriage teaching. That’s fear-based sexual coercion wrapped in religious language.
And when those messages appear in trusted Christian books, and sometimes books handed to engaged couples, newlyweds, women’s groups, or couples seeking help—they carry enormous influence. People assume, This is a Christian book. This author is teaching the Bible. Therefore, this must be what God expects of me.
I know, because years ago I made some of those same assumptions myself.
Thankfully, there are Christian writers challenging these teachings and doing the hard work of examining what some of our most popular marriage resources have actually taught and how those teachings have affected women. If you’re looking for healthier resources, I strongly recommend the work of Sheila Gregoire and her husband, Dr. Keith Gregoire.
But Doesn’t the Bible Say…?
Before somebody says, “Well, then you’d have to throw away the Bible too…”
No.
There is no Scripture, properly understood in its context and in light of the whole counsel of Scripture, that gives one spouse permission to sexually coerce, manipulate, threaten, shame, or intimidate the other.
And can we please retire one particular illustration forever? I’ve heard people defending “obligation sex” say something along the lines of: “You do lots of things because you’re obligated to do them. You wash the dishes when you don’t feel like it. You clean the bathroom when you don’t feel like it. So what’s wrong with having sex with your spouse when you don’t feel like it?”
I almost don’t want to dignify that comparison with a response. But I must.
If your theology of sex has reached the point where you’re comparing your spouse’s body to a sink full of dirty dishes or a toilet that needs scrubbing, something has gone terribly wrong. Sex is not a household chore. Your spouse’s body is not an appliance you’re entitled to use. And consent doesn’t stop mattering when somebody says, “I do.” And yes, there is such a thing as marital rape.
Marriage should be one of the safest places on earth to say yes—and one of the safest places on earth to say no—without threats, punishment, manipulation, infidelity, pornography, spiritual intimidation, or fear.
We Can Teach Both
This is where I think the conversation often gets unnecessarily polarized. We do not have to choose between believing sexual intimacy is important in marriage and believing consent matters. We can simultaneously teach that sex is an important and expected part of a healthy marriage AND teach that coercion has absolutely no place in Christian marriage. Those truths do not contradict each other. In fact, I believe the second protects the beauty of the first.
Sex was never intended to become a transaction, a household obligation, or something extracted from another human being because a marriage license supposedly created an entitlement to their body. What kind of intimacy are we encouraging if one person participates because they are afraid their spouse will cheat? What have we accomplished if someone agrees to sex because they’ve been told their spouse’s pornography use will be their fault otherwise? What kind of biblical marriage have we created if someone feels unable to say no because they believe God Himself requires their compliance? That isn’t the kind of intimacy we should be promoting from our pulpits, marriage conferences, books, counseling offices, small groups, or anywhere else.
Healthy sexual intimacy should be something a couple cultivates together, not something one spouse extracts from the other.
Words Spoken in God’s Name Carry Weight
This is the part I especially want those of us who teach the Bible to understand. When we teach something from a pulpit, write it in a Christian book, present it at a marriage conference, or say it while counseling someone, our words carry spiritual weight. And when we attach “God says” to something coercive, we don’t merely give people bad marriage advice. We give spiritual authority to something that can deeply wound people.
Think about what that can mean for someone already living in a controlling or abusive marriage. She may hear our teaching and conclude that what is happening to her is normal. She may believe she is sinning by resisting sexual pressure. She may believe submission requires compliance. She may believe that if her husband cheats, uses pornography, becomes angry, or behaves sexually outside the marriage, she bears some responsibility because she failed to provide enough sex.
I have heard versions of every one of these messages in Christian circles. And they need to stop. A person is responsible for their own choices. No spouse should be threatened with another person’s potential sin as a means of securing sexual compliance.
“If you don’t, somebody else will.”
“If you don’t, he’ll look at pornography.”
“If you don’t, don’t be surprised if he strays.”
That is not an invitation to intimacy.
It is using fear to obtain sex.
We should absolutely encourage husbands and wives to care deeply about one another’s sexual needs. We should encourage communication, generosity, affection, faithfulness, mutuality, and a willingness to work through problems together. But caring about your spouse’s needs and surrendering your right to say no are not the same thing.
This Is Bigger Than One Documentary
That is one reason Death of a Pastor’s Wife has stayed with me. The messages we normalize inside the church do not remain inside the church. Theology walks out the sanctuary doors with us. It enters our homes and shapes our marriages. It influences what people believe they are permitted to expect from one another and what they believe God requires them to endure. And bad theology can give controlling people religious language with which to justify control.That should deeply concern every one of us who loves the church.
I love the church enough to believe we should be willing to examine our teaching when we discover that something we have preached, repeated, recommended, or normalized has caused harm. I include myself in that. As I said earlier, there was a time when I accepted some of this teaching because trusted Christian voices told me it was biblical. When I learned better, I had a responsibility to do better. We all do.
We can teach that sexual intimacy is beautiful, important, and worth nurturing without turning it into a debt one spouse is required to pay the other. It is possible to teach faithfulness without fear. I believe it’s important to teach mutuality instead of entitlement. And we can encourage husbands and wives to pursue one another rather than pressure one another. The key is to teach people to care about their spouse’s sexual needs while making it unmistakably clear that manipulation, intimidation, threats, shame, and coercion are never acceptable ways of getting those needs met. Perhaps most importantly, we can make sure nobody sitting in our churches walks away believing that God requires them to submit to sexual coercion.
Marriage should be one of the safest places on earth to say yes—and one of the safest places on earth to say no.
That is not anti-sex, anti-marriage, or anti-biblical. It is a rejection of the idea that intimacy can be demanded rather than mutually shared.
My lands.
We need to do so much better.
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