Keeping a Close Eye on "Celibacy": Part 1

To listen to my “dulcet tones” reading this article aloud, hit play on the audio below.

I started my doctoral research on Christian singleness back in 2016. Most of that first research year was spent alone in my study, reading every book and article on Christian singleness that I could get my hands on. I also listened to innumerable conference talks, church sermons and podcasts on the topic.

At the time, the terminology almost everyone used to refer to being unmarried was “single”. Now, not even ten years later, the conversation is being increasingly shaped and informed by a different term—“celibacy”.

In this post (and the next), I want to explain why I am not convinced this trending change is a positive or constructive one. In fact, I think it important we keep a close eye on “celibacy” within the Christian discourse on singleness, marriage, sexuality and so on.

Words can be slippery little suckers. The same word can mean different things to different people, in different contexts, in different places, across different times. Words are beautiful, but they can also be tricky and frustrating. Words can communicate truth wonderfully, but they can also lead to prolonged debates about precisely what truth is being communicated.

This means there are times when we need to be able to hold loosely to certain words and not get too hung up on them. Because of this, you might be wondering if it really matters whether Christians today speak of “singleness” or “celibacy”. Is it really that big a deal?

On the other hand, if we are to have any hope of effectively communicating with each other and effectively communicating truth to each other, then we can’t afford to use words too loosely too often. Words matter, not least because the words we choose to use don’t simply convey truth and meaning… they also shape truth and meaning.

This is precisely what is happening with the preferencing of “celibacy” over “singleness” today. And so, yes, I think it is a big deal.

Before I say more, let’s define our terms. (If you find yourself skimming this next section, make sure you pay attention to the sentences in bold, OK?).

A Brief History of (Certain) Words

SINGLENESS

You won’t find the word “singleness” in scripture. That’s because it didn’t enter the vernacular until around the 14th Century through the Old French word “sengle”—meaning one in numerical value. Over time, the word came into English with the same meaning. However, in the 16th Century, its usage evolved into the realm of personal relationships, eventually denoting the situation of someone who was not married (i.e. there was just “one” of them in their relational context).

The Bible, particularly the New Testament, uses various words to speak about people in different unmarried situations. For example, in 1 Corinthians 7, Paul references widows, betrothed people, divorcees and virgins. He does use the word agamos (e.g. 1 Cor 7:8), which quite literally means “not married.” However, in Greek literature, that word was frequently used to refer to a “widower” (a widow had her very own unique term - chēra). And so, even when Paul uses the term translated in our English bibles as “unmarried”, he may be specifically referring to widowers rather than a catch-all term comparable to our modern term “single”.

Ok. So where does that leave us? Can we use the term “single” meaningfully when the Bible doesn’t? Yes, we can.

The New Testament’s specific terms referred to various unmarried situations of 1st Century ancient Mediterranean people. Those terms arose from and conveyed meaning about that society's broader social and relational fabric. For example, a 1st Century Corinthian widow occupied a very different social and relational context than her 1st Century virgin counterpart. A betrothed man had particular obligations to the woman he was betrothed to and to both his and her families. Some of those terms remain relevant today (e.g. widow/divorcee) even as the social situation of those individuals now is quite different to their ancient counterparts. Other terms... well, not so much. For example, being betrothed back then is not the same as being engaged today. Furthermore, we don’t usually go around identifying people’s marital status in relation to their state of virginity like our 1st Century counterparts did.

In our day and age, when we have our own unique social and relational fabric, the word “single” is used as an umbrella term for someone who is not married (whether never married or no longer married). We then use context and personal knowledge to parse that situation into finer-grained detail, meaning, and significance.

CELIBACY

But what about “celibacy”? Where did it come from?

Again, it isn’t a biblical word. The Latin word “caelebs” (referring to an unmarried man, a bachelor) was used by classical authors as early as the 3rd Century BC. The term did not initially have anything to do with being sexually abstinent. Indeed, most Roman bachelors were far from that! However, later, especially during the 4th and 5th Centuries, Christian writers in the West (i.e., the Latin speakers) began to use the term with reference to the clerical Christian life. And so, because unmarried Christians were not to have sex, the term also started to include implicit notions of sexual abstinence alongside not being married.

As the monastic tradition developed and then flourished in the Middle Ages, “celibacy” began to narrowly refer to one’s choice to enter into a lifelong, unmarried, sexually abstinent religious vocation. In doing so, its abstinent component became emphasised and value-laden rather than merely describing one aspect of the unmarried Christian life. After the Reformation, the language and concept of celibacy became somewhat alien to Protestantism and was chiefly considered the domain of Roman Catholic clerics and monastics.

When it was used outside of that particular religious context, it usually referred to self-disciplined sexual abstinence for either a defined or indefinite period. It is still used in the same way today. For example, this contemporary Australian secular documentary on celibacy features individuals who have not only chosen to remain sexually abstinent for life but also those who have been sexually active and are even married but who have embarked on a limited period of celibacy for a bunch of different reasons. In today’s world, celibacy typically means “not (currently) having sex”.

In Advocacy of Celibacy - A Case Study

As I said at the top, in recent years, the word “celibacy” has increasingly been vying for poll position with “singleness” in Christian conversations about the unmarried life. When I started my doctoral research, “celibacy” was very infrequently used in Protestant discussions of singleness and marriage. Less than a decade later, it seems to be everywhere.

Though, perhaps that’s not entirely true. You see, not everyone prefers to use the term “celibacy”. Indeed—and I’m speaking in broad brushstrokes here— the two terms tend to denote two different perspectives on the unmarried Christian life.

The term “singleness” still tends to be popular amongst those in the evangelical world who regard the unmarried life as a less than ideal, perhaps even problematic, state for the Christian. To put it simply (and again, in generalised terms), '“singleness” is often used by those who see it as a pitiable, unfortunate, tragic or even recalcitrant life situation. Present company excluded, of course!

On the other hand, a new and typically younger subset of Christians who advocate for the unmarried life are enthusiastic supporters of the term “celibacy”. They see it as a positive (rather than negative) way of referring to the life situation they claim and embrace as their own.

In this piece, I want to engage with one such advocate's particular “pro-celibacy” argument as a case study. His name is Grant Hartley and while his voice is just among many, I think his argument is a beneficial one for us to interact with.

In his article titled “Against Singleness: On One of My Least Favorite Concepts”, Grant writes:

“I have come to believe the word "singleness" is a poor description of the life I feel called to pursue, and now prefer to use the word “celibacy”.”

I’d encourage you to head over and read Grant’s article in full. In it, he offers several reasons why “singleness” is one of his least favourite concepts and why he prefers the word “celibacy”. In summary, he argues:

1. “Singleness" communicates a lack of relational connection; “celibacy” more specifically communicates foregoing sex and marriage

2. “Singleness” can tend to erase the unique relational opportunity being unmarried and sexually abstinent affords.

3. “Singleness” is usually understood as unintentional and temporary; “celibacy” communicates intentionality and has a ring of permanence.

4. “Celibacy” and “singleness” are not good synonyms, because celibacy does not strictly require going without life partnership.

5. “Celibacy” sounds peculiar, and could provoke questions or provide opportunities for deeper conversations.

Rather than taking Grant’s reasons one by one, I will interact with the broad features of his argument while skipping over #4 altogether (because that is opening up a whole other can of worms that I don’t want us to get distracted by here!). As you’ll see from my interaction with his argument, I think there are (at least) four significant problems with the pervasive use of “celibacy” in the contemporary Christian discourse about singleness and marriage. Here’s the first…

1. The Problem is it Exacerbates Rather than Solves the Issue

Grant writes:

“Celibacy does not prevent one from having deep relationships or intimacy with others […] In many cases, celibacy allows for more relationships, not less. “Singleness” is less a description than a negation, and can unintentionally make it sound like unmarried people are singular, isolated from others.”

”Being unmarried is assumed to be a void to be filled, or a wound to be tended to, rather than a state of life that affords many gifts, including much opportunity for relational fulfillment. I think that the word “celibacy” lends itself better to this vision than “singleness.””

Now, I actually have a lot of (initial) sympathy for this argument. Indeed, here is how I put it in my book, The Meaning of Singleness:

“Perhaps the most foundational thing to observe about the contemporary Christian discourse’s perception of singleness’s character is its assessed deficiency […] Because the term “single” is usually used synonymously with the terms “unmarried" or “not married” […] the fundamental determining factor in describing who a single person is, is grounded in a description of who they are not.” - The Meaning of Singleness, p.43

That is, there is a very real sense in which Christians today typically perceive singleness to be a deficit life situation. To be single is seen by many to be lacking, incomplete, and unfulfilled. To have not attained the thing which ought to be attained. The single Christian is often seen as the “abject other”.

So perhaps we should ditch “singleness” and employ a different term in its place—a term such as “celibacy”? Well, no, I don’t think so. As I continue:

“Even if an obvious terminological solution was to become apparent, it would not ultimately prove to be an effective solution to this quandary, for the critical issue is not linguistic but ideological. That is, the notion of the single person’s deficiency is not grounded in the actual term [… but] in the social, psychological, political, theological and pastoral assumptions that are embedded within the contemporary evangelical social imaginary about what it means to be the opposite of married.” - The Meaning of Singleness, p.45

Simply put, the problem is not the word “single” but what we think that word means.

The irony is that Grant and other “celibacy” advocates who make this same argument exacerbate rather than solve that problem! Remember how I said earlier that words don’t just communicate truth and meaning, but they also shape those things? Those arguing that we should swap in “celibacy” for “singleness” are actively shaping the discourse they seek to correct. Because they cede that relational isolation is inherent to singleness (or at least perceived as inherent to singleness), their proposed solution becomes conveniently self-fulfilling.

See, look again at what Grant says:

“Singleness” is less a description than a negation, and can unintentionally make it sound like unmarried people are singular, isolated from others.”

“Being unmarried is assumed to be a void to be filled, or a wound to be tended to, rather than a state of life that affords many gifts, including much opportunity for relational fulfillment. I think that the word “celibacy” lends itself better to this vision than “singleness.””

If “singleness” unintentionally makes it sound like unmarried people are relationally isolated, then the issue is not the word but the flawed assumption that to be unmarried is to be alone.

If “singleness” does not lend itself to communicating a relationally fulfilled vision for the unmarried Christian, then the solution is not to employ a different word but to demonstrate how you can be single (i.e., unmarried) and deeply embedded in relationship with others.

(An aside: Ironically, the word “celibacy” has historical connotations of relational isolation and seclusion! Monastic communities were typically cloistered. Most of their adherents withdrew from the society around them rather than living in the thick of it.)

Swapping out terminology is not the solution to an inadequate theological understanding and relational knowledge of being unmarried as a Christian. We need to align our thinking and attitude toward the unmarried life (which in today’s everyday English is called “being single”) with God’s thinking and attitude toward it.

We can’t and shouldn’t expect the exchange of “celibacy” for “singleness” to do that heavy lifting for us—especially because, as I will now begin to argue, such an exchange brings with it some false assumptions and problematic baggage.

2. The Problem is it Impoverishes the Faithfulness of Many “Single” Christians

Grant writes that:

So when “singleness” is discussed, it is typically seen as an unfortunate and temporary state that will eventually give way to marriage—[“singleness” is] a state no one would choose for themselves […] But my choice to forego sex and marriage (and to benefit from the gifts that celibacy affords) is not a problem, but the acceptance of a beautiful gift. It is the vocation of choice for heroes of the faith (including the apostle Paul, and Jesus himself)…”

First, notice again Grant’s argument that “singleness” is seen by many as a tragic situation that nobody in their right mind would choose. Instead of objecting to this false narrative, Grant cedes to it and poses an alternative that is somehow meant to leapfrog this palliative view of the unmarried Christian life.

That aside, the thing I really want to draw your attention to at this point is the way “celibacy” advocates put their chosen unmarried situation on a personal and theological pedestal high above the every day “single” Christian.

The situation of a “single” person is an unfortunate problem, while the situation of a “celibate” person is a beautiful gift.

The “single” person lives in an endlessly temporary state of limbo. The “celibate” person gets to be a hero of the faith, like Jesus and Paul.

In summary, “celibacy” is superior to “singleness” because it is chosen and because it is chosen for life.

Now, I’ve critiqued this false dichotomy elsewhere, so rather than repeating myself, let me quote my conclusion there in the hope that it perks your interest in reading the whole article:

“The increasing contemporary fixation on chosen [celibacy] vs unchosen singleness is evidence of the way we embed far greater moral value and dignity into the exercise of individual agency than we do a willingness to accept what has been given to us by a good God and to live faithfully in that assignment. It’s evidence of the way we idealise our capacity to make unconstrained choice rather than to accept the reality that, often, things are simply given to us. That we are indeed, creatures of constraint.” - And The Gold Medal of Singleness Goes To…

There have existed countless Christian men and women who would have chosen to get married if they had been given the opportunity to marry a mature Christian spouse. But they didn’t. Instead, they exercised their faithfulness to Jesus by choosing not to marry a non-Christian, not to partner up in a de-facto relationship, not to have sex outside of the covenant of marriage, not to remarry if they were not free to do so, etc.

Why is their faithfulness any less “heroic” simply because it is wonderfully expressed in the moment rather than committed to for life? Is not godliness here and now what we are called to? Are we not warned to be humble when planning for the future and committing ourselves to lifelong vows? (James 4:13-15; Matthew 5:33-37)

The faithfulness and fruitfulness of ordinary “single” Christians do not deserve to be diminished so that those who choose not to marry can feel like they get to be heroes of the faith.

Grant continues:

“[Celibacy] is the vocation of choice for heroes of the faith (including the apostle Paul, and Jesus himself), and the ultimate destiny of all in the resurrection (in which marriage as we know it will pass away, see Mark 12:25, Matthew 22:30, Luke 20:35-36). The celibate life is the celestial life, the life of the angels in heaven which our lives will resemble in the resurrection.”

Now remember, Grant is explaining why he considers the term “celibate” much better than “single”. And so here, when he says that “the celibate life is the celestial life” of the resurrection, he is claiming that the “single” life is somehow not this.

This is a false conclusion.

Grant and others valorise “celibacy” because it involves an individual’s active choice to forgo sex and marriage (for life). But in the resurrection age none of us will choose to forgo getting (or being) married to another person. It simply will not be a feature of the new creation. We will exercise no personal agency in that outcome.

As I spent 300-odd pages arguing, it is the unmarried life that is the (personal) celestial life. Those who describe themselves as “celibates” rather than “singles” don’t have any superior vantage point on that count. The person who has set out to remain single is not positioned on an eschatological pedestal above the single person who is open to the possibility of marriage. Both the Christian who has chosen to stay single and the Christian whose singleness has been assigned to them here and now by God are living witnesses to the new age to come.

Preferencing the language of “celibacy” over the language of “singleness” falsely impoverishes both the faithful obedience and the fruitful eschatological witness of the everyday, ordinary “single” Christian.

Sure, there are some differences in the lived experience of those who have chosen to pursue singleness and those who have chosen to pursue obedience and contentment in their given singleness. I’ve written about that here. But such differences are not ones of quality. The one who has “chosen” their singleness is not superior in any sense to the one who is getting on with serving Jesus in a singleness that they would not have chosen for themselves.

(Let me make one final and slightly provocative observation on this matter: this kind of pro-celibacy argument can very quickly become unintentionally sexist. The reality is that the vast majority of Christian “singles” who would choose to get married if they could are women, while the vast majority of self-proclaimed “celibates” are men. Any argument that esteems “celibacy” over and above “singleness” is inherently (even if unintentionally) in danger of valuing the male unmarried life over and above the female unmarried Christian life.)

---

Ok. To absolutely nobody’s surprise, this post is running long. So, I’ll end it here and return soon with a second part in which I will give my third and fourth reasons why I think we need to keep a close eye on “celibacy”. Make sure you are subscribed so it lands directly in your inbox!