Lust and the Reformed Confessions

INTRODUCTION

Every age in church history has faced its own enemies. Some have been loud, obvious, and violent; others have crept in quietly and done far more damage by rotting faith from the inside. Today, one of the most destructive sins silently weakening Christ’s Church is pornography.

This is not a problem “out there in the world.” It has settled into the pews and, at times, even into pulpits. Many sincere Christians, who love their Bibles and believe sound doctrine, are fighting private battles that are draining their strength and dulling their joy. Shame silences them. Fear isolates them. Sin thrives in that silence and secrecy.

Pornography has stolen confidence in prayer. It has strained marriages, robbed men of spiritual backbone, weighed down women with insecurity and bitterness, and choked the spiritual vitality of homes. It has taken courage from fathers, tenderness from husbands, leadership from elders, and peace from families. Worse, many believers feel they cannot speak about it without being crushed by shame, so they suffer alone.

As pastors, elders, husbands, and fathers, we do not have permission to look away. Christ calls His people to holiness in public and in private. He commands His Church to expose and destroy hidden sin, not normalize or ignore it. The Reformed tradition has never treated sexual sin lightly, and neither has Scripture. The God who justifies also sanctifies. The Spirit who saves also purifies. And Christ, who bought His bride with His own blood, intends for her to walk in light.

This article is not written to condemn repentant sinners, but to remind us who we are in Christ and the life He has commanded us to pursue. Scripture is our final authority, and it speaks clearly here. Our Reformed fathers understood that truth and wrote with clarity and courage on this matter. We follow Scripture first and gladly listen to the confessions where they faithfully echo it. What follows is a return to that clarity. We will look to the Word of God and the historic witness of the Church, so that we may reject the world’s lies, embrace holiness, and fight for purity together.

THE WESTMINSTER LARGER ON LUST

The Westminster divines did not treat the Seventh Commandment as a fence around one sin. They saw it as God’s call to a disciplined life, where purity is guarded long before the body falls. The Larger Catechism requires “chastity in body, mind, affections, words, and behavior,” and commands “watchfulness over the eyes and all the senses” and “the preservation of chastity in ourselves and others.” Westminster does not allow Christians to imagine that holiness is something that simply happens to them. It demands vigilance, labor, and self-denial.

Lust does not begin when a man opens pornography at 1:00 a.m. It begins when he lets his eyes linger on a woman at the gym whose leggings cling so tightly that every curve of her body is exposed. It begins when he watches a show that parades fornication as romance and treats adultery as excitement, and tells himself he can “filter it out.” It begins when he scrolls through TikTok and Instagram, watching women dance in ways designed to stir sexual desire, and dismisses his hunger as curiosity or stress relief. It begins when he sees a woman in a crop top or low-cut blouse that deliberately displays her breasts and chooses to look again. It begins in every moment he feeds imagination instead of mortifying it.

And lust does not belong to men alone. Westminster binds women to holiness with the same seriousness. A woman who chooses leggings that reveal every contour of her thighs, hips, and backside is not practicing Christian modesty; she is dressing for attention. A woman who wears a dress cut low over her breasts and then pretends she is unaware of the effect is lying to herself and sinning against her brothers. A woman who posts photos online with angles meant to accentuate her figure, or who dances in a way that moves her body as sexual bait, is not free—she is helping stir lust in men and dishonoring Christ. “I have the right to wear what I want” is not the voice of Christian liberty, but the voice of feminism catechizing the church.

The Catechism forbids “unchaste looks,” “immodest apparel,” “lascivious songs,” and “wanton looks.” In our day, that means you cannot claim to love purity while watching shows where actors remove their clothes for the camera, even if “everyone says it’s a great story.” You cannot claim purity while listening to music that celebrates fornication, mocks marital faithfulness, and turns women into bodies instead of souls. You cannot claim purity while participating in dancing that presses bodies together and simulates sexual rhythm outside of marriage. You cannot claim purity while laughing at crude jokes, following sexualized creators, or consuming entertainment that treats sin as humor or pleasure.

The Westminster divines were not prudes. They were not embarrassed by the human body or afraid of desire. They simply understood Scripture: temptation thrives where discipline dies. Imagination collapses before the body falls. Men and women fall into great sin because they first refused to fight small ones. They did not toy with sin or see how close they could get. They drew lines, guarded senses, restrained impulses, and built habits of obedience. They believed that holiness does not happen by accident, and compromise does not stay small.

Today, Christians excuse the very behaviors Westminster condemns. They binge-watch sexual content and call it “entertainment.” They scroll lust-bait and call it “social media.” They dress provocatively and call it “confidence.” They play with fire and then weep when they are burned. But God is not mocked. When the eyes are undisciplined, the heart will follow. When clothing becomes bait, lust becomes a harvest. When the entertainment diet is filth, the imagination rots.

Westminster leaves no room for neutrality here. Purity demands active obedience, not passive hope. It demands effort, restraint, maturity, and accountability. It demands that Christians reject the world’s norms, refuse to imitate its styles, and take responsibility for how they look, how they look at others, and what they consume.

If we call ourselves Reformed, then we do not admire the courage of our fathers and then cower before Netflix, leggings culture, and TikTok. We obey Christ, we mortify the flesh, we dress with dignity, we look away from temptation, we choose holy entertainment, and we stand guard over our imagination. The command is clear. The question is whether we will bow to it.

THE CONTINENTAL CHORUS

Westminster is not a lone voice crying in the wilderness. Sexual purity is not an eccentric strain of Presbyterianism or a Puritan hang-up from a bygone era. It is the settled conviction of the entire Reformation, shouted from pulpits in Wittenberg, Geneva, Edinburgh, London, Zurich, and La Rochelle. Across languages and lands, the Reformers taught that sexual sin is not a private indulgence—it is spiritual rot, covenant treason, and a cancer that spreads until it consumes the soul and poisons the church.

The Augsburg Confession (1530) condemns “horrible vices and scandalous unchastity,” warning that unchecked sensuality corrupts both clergy and people. Luther’s friends saw what happens when leaders wink at sensuality: a church becomes effeminate, cowardly, and worldly. If Luther preached today, he would not overlook men who linger in DMs with women who are not their wives, or Christian couples who travel together overnight before marriage and pretend it's harmless. He would not call it “struggle”—he would call it sin.

The Thirty-Nine Articles (1571) defend marriage for ministers so they might “serve better to godliness.” The English Reformers had seen monks take vows with their lips and break them with their bodies. They would not bless ministers who “counsel purity” while privately consuming sexualized influencers, responding to flirty texts, keeping “harmless” private friendships with women, or offering pastoral care that conveniently turns into emotional intimacy. They would not tolerate pulpits guarded by men who lock their phones, hide their messages, or “accountability-app their way” around repentance.

Calvin’s Geneva Catechism (1545) condemns “wanton looks” and “incentives to impurity.” Calvin would not smile at Christian women posting “tasteful thirst traps” in fitted dresses for the likes and comments of strangers. He would not excuse the man who doesn’t watch porn but watches fitness vloggers in sports bras, or the married woman with a “work husband” she shares private jokes and emotional secrets with. He would call those things what Scripture calls them: seeds of adultery.

Luther’s Large Catechism (1529) warns fathers that tolerating sensuality in their homes invites satanic destruction. Luther would not tolerate a Christian father handing his teenage son a smartphone without guardrails or curiosity about who he follows online. He would not excuse Christian parents who let daughters dress for online validation, or send sons to co-ed overnight retreats with no thought to temptation. Luther thundered because he knew the devil does not wait for adulthood to corrupt a soul.

The Second Helvetic Confession (1566) condemns “shameful lust” and upholds marriage as God’s guard against sin. Bullinger would not shrug at Christians binge-watching reality dating shows that turn intimacy into entertainment. He would not deem it harmless to watch men and women share beds on screen “for drama,” or to follow celebrities whose entire brand is sexual temptation. He would say plainly that those who feast on filth will reap decay.

The Scots Confession (1560) treats sexual sin as a matter for church discipline. Knox and his session did not use vague language like “accountability partner.” They confronted sin and expected repentance. They would not be impressed by a husband who claims to be “fighting lust” while watching late-night streaming alone, nor a wife who seeks emotional comfort from a male coworker while cold to her husband. They would call such things communion-table issues.

The French Confession (1559) teaches that violating God’s design for male and female is rebellion against creation. The Huguenots died rather than imitate the world, and they would not placate a Christian who says, “It’s just fashion; it’s just humor; it’s just art.” They would not bless men who consume erotic novels “instead of porn,” nor wives who indulge in romantic fantasies about fictional men who are not their husbands. They would call it what it is: spiritual adultery.

The Irish Articles (1615) bind doctrine and life together: true faith produces obedience. The Irish divines would not accept a man who boasts Reformed theology while flirting in comment threads, consuming sexual humor, or “liking” posts that parade sensuality. They would not accept a woman deeply versed in catechisms who uses her social media to garner male attention, post provocative vacation photos, or celebrate the world's standards of beauty while claiming modesty is “cultural.”

Across the Reformation, one truth stands unmoved: where the gospel is embraced, sexual holiness is demanded.

They did not separate doctrine and purity. They did not wink at “private struggles.” They did not redefine immodesty as empowerment, or lust as trauma, or accountability as spiritual life support for men who refuse to amputate sin. They would have looked at a church that tolerates sexual entertainment, emotional adultery, digital flirtation, sensual self-display, and secret online indulgence—and called it compromised, cowardly, and in need of repentance.

A church with Calvin’s Institutes on the shelf and sexual sin in the pews is not Reformed—it is rotten.

CONCLUSION

The Christ who saves us does not tolerate our sin. He does not wink at lust, excuse compromise, or negotiate with impurity. He is a jealous Bridegroom, and His jealousy is not insecurity—it is covenant love. He poured His blood out to purchase a holy bride, not a worldly one. He does not share His people with the gods of pornography, emotional adultery, sensual entertainment, and vanity dressed as “self-expression.”

But this same Christ is also gentle to the broken. He does not shame the repentant; He cleanses them. He does not crush the trembling believer; He restores him. He does not despise the man who finally confesses after years of darkness; He runs to him with the mercy purchased at Calvary. He does not taunt the woman who feels trapped in comparison, insecurity, or attention-seeking; He clothes her in beauty that does not fade.

Christ does not heal sin by hiding it. He heals by exposure, confession, and grace. So the way forward is not secrecy—it is repentance. It is going to God first, and then to your elders, your spouse, and your brothers or sisters in Christ. It is deleting the apps, severing the relationships, replacing the playlists, reordering the wardrobe, canceling the subscriptions, and tearing out the roots that feed the rot. It is learning to hate what once delighted you, because you now love the One who has loved you unto death.

The call of Christ is not “try harder and hope.”
It is: Put sin to death. Walk in the light. Live as the redeemed.

Our forefathers believed in victory because they believed in a victorious Savior. They did not build churches on compromise. They built them on Scripture, prayer, discipline, confession, fellowship, and sacrificial obedience. And they believed that where Christ reigns, lust dies. Slowly sometimes, painfully often, but certainly.

The world offers counterfeit freedom: unrestrained desire, endless stimulation, and a hollow soul. Christ offers real freedom: a clean conscience, a steady mind, a faithful marriage bed, sons and daughters who grow up unpolluted by filth, and a church radiant with holiness instead of hiding in shame.

So let us repent—not with despair, but with confidence. Let us fight—not with self-trust, but with Spirit-wrought resolve. Let us raise sons who will not bow to screens and daughters who will not bow to vanity. Let us build marriages immune to secrecy because they are saturated with truth. Let us cultivate churches where men confess early, women encourage purity, and sin cannot thrive in the shadows because the light is too bright.

Christ is sanctifying His bride. He will finish what He started. He breaks chains. He restores dignity. He gives purity where there once was filth. He gives men back their courage. He gives women back their peace. He gives households back their honor. He gives the church back her beauty. So rise. Confess. Cut off sin before it kills you. And stand up like someone blood-bought and Spirit-filled, because you are. Christ did not redeem you to leave you enslaved. He redeemed you to make you holy.


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