Sex As Worship
There was a time—not long ago in the history of man—when sex was rightly understood as one of the most intimate and exalted forms of creaturely worship. It was not viewed as crude recreation or dismissed as a necessary evil for procreation. Nor was it reduced to the mindless motion of hormones and bodies. It was seen as holy. Glorious. The sacred fusion of body and soul, echoing the harmony of heaven and earth once found in Eden.
In that garden sanctuary, sex was not merely physical—it was profoundly spiritual. A covenantal communion between man and wife that delighted in God’s design and gave thanks for His kindness and goodness (Genesis 1:31; James 1:17). Remember, it was Adam who lifted his voice in praise over Eve’s naked beauty: “This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh” (Genesis 2:23). That moment was worship for Adam, where he was deeply satisfied in both God’s kindness and the beauty of the gift (Genesis 2:25; Psalm 16:2). And so it has always been. Just as lifted hands or bent knees give glory to God, so does a man exulting in his wife and uniting with her in joyful, God-glorifying intimacy—a kind of worship (Proverbs 5:18–19; Hebrews 13:4; 1 Corinthians 10:31).
In this way, sex within marriage is not merely a symbol of worship—it is worship. It is a liturgy written with the pen of bodies and the ink of covenantal union. It is a bodily and hormonal hallelujah. It is a song of oneness and creaturely gratitude that rises from the union of two souls knit together by covenant and consecrated by love.
When husband and wife come together, they do far more than satisfy carnal appetites. They dramatize the eternal, self-giving love of the Triune God. Their union reflects the fellowship and joyful reciprocity that has existed from eternity between Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. “The two shall become one flesh.” This mystery is great; but I am speaking with reference to Christ and the church (Ephesians 5:31–32). In that holy moment, their delight in one another becomes a doxology. Their bodies, fashioned with exquisite intention, become instruments of praise.
Their pleasure, when offered in purity, becomes a psalm. Sex, rightly ordered, is not a distraction from spiritual life—it is the very stage where holiness and praise are enraptured and enfleshed.
HOW THE BED MUST SING
While living in a world that has perverted sex, and in a church culture that has often treated it as taboo or shameful, we must remember this: sex was God’s idea. He did not stumble upon it. He invented it. The first wedding was officiated by the Lord Himself, and the first wedding night was not met with embarrassment or blushing, but with divine approval. God called it very good (Genesis 1:31).
Sex was not born in a brothel; it was born in a garden. It was not conceived in a locker room or designed in the fevered imagination of men—it was forged in the mind of God, cultivated by His wisdom, and given as a gift to be joyfully received within marriage. This is why God says:
“For this reason a man shall leave his father and his mother, and be joined to his wife; and they shall become one flesh. And the man and his wife were both naked and were not ashamed” (Genesis 2:24–25).
In this, God was telling us something profound: a man must leave the security of his upbringing and cling to his bride, and their shameless, sacred, bodily union would form a covenantal communion of lifelong love. That is not just physiology—it is theology. God placed the fire of sex in a fireplace called marriage, where it could burn hot and holy, fueling warmth, joy, and life. But when it escapes those boundaries, it becomes wildfire—destructive, disordered, and profane.
And here is what must be reclaimed: sex is never neutral. It is always an act of worship. Every moment of sexual intimacy is either worship of the true and living God or idolatry before the altar of self. There is no third option. We do not toggle sex on and off like a light switch, indifferent to its meaning. Because sex, in its very design, is covenantal, powerful, and deeply spiritual, it becomes a liturgy of the heart and body. It either sings praise to the Creator or screams rebellion against Him. It either magnifies God’s design or mocks it. It is never silent.
This is why the world’s version of sex is so loud. Because worship is loud. The culture that parades its perversions down city streets is not just being licentious—it is being liturgical. They are worshiping their god. They bow before the gods of appetite, autonomy, and androgyny. They evangelize. They catechize. They sing songs. They offer their bodies on unholy altars—and they call it freedom.
But we will never reclaim what is good by only condemning what is evil. We must recover the beauty of what sex was always meant to be. We must preach the positive case, not just the prohibitions. And that means declaring, without shame or hesitation, that faithful, covenantal sex between a husband and wife is not merely allowed—it is exalted. It is not a concession to human weakness—it is a celebration of divine wisdom.
When a husband and wife delight in one another with covenantal love, they rehearse the joy of heaven in the theater of earth. They do not merely gratify desire—they glorify God. Their bed becomes an altar. Their pleasure becomes praise. Their union becomes a psalm. Their moans become melodies. Their bodies, knit together by covenant and lit with divine joy, become instruments of praise in a sacred symphony.
This—this—is when the marriage bed sings. It sings not of shame, but of splendor. Not of lust, but of love. Not of selfish taking, but of self-giving joy.
Every moment of covenantal pleasure is a foretaste of heaven’s joy—a bodily preview of eternal delight. And that’s not accidental. That’s design.
WHERE THE BED MUST BE AIMED
This is why we must reject the old lies of Gnosticism and Platonic dualism —the idea that the soul is noble while the body is base, that physical desire is somehow inherently dirty, and that pleasure is to be tolerated but never exalted. These lies have slithered into the Church, twisting our theology and sterilizing our joy. But the Bible declares something better. Our God made both the heavens and the hormones, the spirit and the skin, the soul and the spine. The material is not opposed to the spiritual—they were made to dance. Let me say it plainly: The same God who made distant galaxies full of stars made the clitoris full of nerve endings. I do not say that to make you blush and I am not being crass—I am being a Christian. God gave women an organ whose only known biological function is pleasure. Not reproduction. Not survival. He gave it to her for her delight. That does not communicate a cosmic oversight, but divine intentionality. Pleasure was not man’s invention—it was God’s intention.
Likewise, God made men to be visually enraptured by their wives—not as a trap, but as a blessing. In covenant, a man’s desire for his bride is not shameful, but sacred. It is meant to be satisfied, not suppressed. God made men to crave their wives’ bodies—not to be tormented, but to be gratified in covenant. That’s why Proverbs 5:18–19 commands, “Let your fountain be blessed, and rejoice in the wife of your youth… Let her breasts satisfy you at all times; be exhilarated always with her love.” Erotic joy in marriage is not just permitted—it is prescribed. God commands a husband to delight in his wife and be intoxicated with her love.
And lest we think this is a fringe idea, God wrote an entire book—the Song of Songs—to celebrate marital, embodied love. “May he kiss me with the kisses of his mouth! For your love is better than wine” (Song 1:2). “How beautiful and how delightful you are, my love, with all your charms… Your stature is like a palm tree, and your breasts are like its clusters. I said, ‘I will climb the palm tree, I will take hold of its fruit stalks’” (Song 7:6–9). This is not eroticism inspired by the flesh—it is poetry breathed out by the Spirit of God.
The New Testament affirms the same. In 1 Corinthians 7:3–5, Paul commands, “The husband must fulfill his duty to his wife, and likewise also the wife to her husband… Stop depriving one another.” Sex is not a burden. It is not a bargaining chip. It is not a reward or punishment. It is a God-ordained covenantal duty of affection, meant to bind hearts, foster joy, and deepen trust. And it is not secular. It is spiritual.
Paul says in 1 Corinthians 10:31, “Whether, then, you eat or drink or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.” If eating and drinking can be worshipful, how much more the one-flesh union that reflects Christ and the Church? 1 Timothy 4:3–5 adds that marriage and all its joys are “to be gratefully shared in by those who believe… for everything created by God is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with gratitude.” Sex is not something to be whispered about with shame. It is a good gift to be received with joy and sanctified with prayer.
Hebrews 13:4 reminds us, “Marriage is to be held in honor among all, and the marriage bed is to be undefiled.” The marriage bed is not unmentionable—it is honorable. It is not a dirty joke—it is a holy altar. This is because marital union is theological. Ephesians 5:31–32 says, “For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and shall be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.” This mystery is great; but I am speaking with reference to Christ and the church.” Sex isn’t just physical—it’s typological. It reflects the faithful union of Jesus with His Bride. This means sex isn’t just biological—it’s eschatological.
Even the Preacher in Ecclesiastes affirms this vision, urging us, “Enjoy life with the woman whom you love all the days of your fleeting life…” (Eccl. 9:9). And the prophet Malachi rebukes men who betray their wives, reminding us that “the Lord has been a witness between you and the wife of your youth…” and that God seeks godly offspring (Malachi 2:14–15). Marriage, sex, and parenting are deeply covenantal realities, rooted in worship. And let us not forget the catechism that shaped generations of Christians: “What is the chief end of man?” “To glorify God and to enjoy Him forever.” That is not a disembodied command. It includes the marriage bed. In faithful sexual union, a husband and wife glorify God in their bodies (1 Corinthians 6:20) and enjoy one another with thanksgiving. The bedroom becomes a sanctuary. The act of love, a sacred liturgy. Every embrace, a living sacrifice. Every caress, an echo of Eden. Every moment of pleasure, a foretaste of the banquet joy that awaits us in heaven.
But this pleasure is not aimless. This joy is not arbitrary. The covenantal act of sex is not just permitted, it is prescribed—because it is proclamatory. It is not just about union between man and woman, but about the ultimate union between Christ and His Bride. Just as the temple in the Old Testament was a holy place—filled with ritual, beauty, and awe—not for its own sake, but because it pointed to Christ, so too the marriage bed is a holy place, not because it is hidden or private, but because it preaches the Gospel.
The sacrificial system pointed forward to the Lamb of God who would take away the sins of the world—and God commanded it to be practiced with reverence, obedience, and joy. In the same way, sex within marriage is a typological rehearsal of redemptive glory. It is a God-ordained act that declares, with every embrace, that Christ is faithful, Christ is near, and Christ delights in His Bride.
To treat sex as shameful is to treat the Gospel as shameful. To recoil from marital intimacy as something base or beastly is to recoil from the typological beauty that God designed to point to the union of heaven and earth. If we withhold sex in marriage, we withhold the drama of redemption. We muffle the music. We break the picture frame. The Apostle Paul does not describe the sexual union lightly—he says, “This mystery is great… but I am speaking with reference to Christ and the church” (Ephesians 5:32). That’s not poetic license. That’s doctrinal mandate.
Sex is not optional for married Christians. It is mandatory, prescribed, intimate worship. It is theologically necessary. And it must be practiced not grudgingly, not transactionally, but joyfully, gratefully, and Godwardly—as an embodied declaration of the Gospel mystery.
Because when husband and wife unite in covenantal love, they are not just engaging in pleasure—they are preaching Christ. When the bed is honored, the cross is lifted high. When the marriage is warm and whole, the Gospel is told in flesh and fidelity. That is where the bed is pointed—to Calvary’s sacrifice, the Bridegroom’s joy, and the eternal union of God and His people.
WHY THE BED MUST BE REDEEMED
But perhaps you’re still hesitant. You’ve seen how distorted sex has become since Eden. You’ve felt the shame, the wounds, the regret. You know the curse. And maybe you’re wondering if sex—this side of the Fall—can ever really be sacred again. Can a post-Eden bed still sing? Can corrupted desires still be called worship?
Yes. Not because we are pure, but because Christ is. Not because we are unbroken, but because He was broken for us. This is the power of the Gospel: it does not merely save our souls—it sanctifies our bodies. It cleanses lips for praise and cleanses loins for pleasure. It makes us holy on Sunday morning and in the bedroom.
Jesus did not just die for what you do in church. He died for what you do in secret. And He rose again to reign over every room, including the one with the locked door and the shared bed. He came to redeem the whole organism—your eyes, your hands, your fantasies, your impulses—and to make your orgasms as holy as your hymns, your moans as sanctified as your melodies, your pleasure as pleasing to God as your prayer.
This is not blasphemy. This is biblical. “You are not your own… Therefore glorify God in your body” (1 Corinthians 6:19–20). We don’t just bring our minds to Christ—we bring our members. Every time a husband and wife come together in Christ, in covenant, in purity—they don’t just make love. They make worship.
This is how deep the blood of Jesus runs. It does not stop at the sanctuary door. It flows to the marriage bed. And wherever that blood flows, holiness follows. And this is why the bed can be redeemed. Because the tomb is empty, and Christ now reigns—not just over angels and archangels, but over bedrooms and brokenness, over bodies and their longings. Wherever His blood has touched, His holiness can flourish—even there.
HOW THE BED MUST BE RECLAIMED
But tragically, many Christian homes are silent on this glory. In the name of modesty, we’ve let the world do all the talking. But silence is not safety—it is surrender. If we are silent about the sacred, the world will catechize our children with the profane. If we do not disciple them, YouTube will. If we do not cast the vision, TikTok will. If we do not extol the goodness of God’s design, the culture will offer counterfeits laced with poison.
Parents are not only called to protect their children from perversion—they are called to prepare them for delight. Not crassly. Not prematurely. But purposefully, pastorally, and biblically. We must give our sons and daughters a better story. A vision so beautiful that the world’s perversions look like ash in comparison. A vision where sex is not about conquest, consumption, or self-fulfillment—but about covenant, communion, and worship.
So let us honor marriage and keep the marriage bed undefiled (Hebrews 13:4). Let us teach the next generation not merely how to avoid sin, but how to enjoy holiness. Let us recover the ancient, Edenic, and glorious truth that sex, in all its God-designed grandeur, is a gift meant to be stewarded with reverence, shared with joy, and offered as worship to the One who made it.
This is not a footnote in the Christian life. It is a declaration: Our God reigns—even over the marriage bed. And when husband and wife delight in one another with purity, passion, and praise, they do not drift from God's presence. They step into it.
And so, if sex is the most intimate form of worship God has given to husband and wife, it’s worth asking: How is your worship? Does your bedroom sing with gratitude and glory to God for the one He’s given you? Or has it grown cold, neglected, even starved? Has it been defined by Hollywood scripts, shameful memories, or worldly philosophies? Or has it been reclaimed—defined by Scripture, redeemed by grace, and enjoyed without apology in the light of God’s pleasure?
It’s time to stop surviving and tolerating sex. It’s time for marriages to start glorifying God through their union and inviting sanctification to improve it. And this is how the bed must be reclaimed: not with silence or shame, but with Scripture, with singing, and with the Spirit’s power. By speaking of its beauty. By guarding it with reverence. And by teaching the next generation not to be afraid of its fire—but to light it only in the fireplace of covenant love.
ANSWERING OBJECTIONS
The moment you dare to call sex holy, typological, or worshipful, you can expect resistance. Some will clutch their pearls. Others will clinch their theological jaw. A few will simply click away. But for those who stay—who genuinely want to know whether such bold claims about the marriage bed are biblical, pastoral, and proper—I offer this follow-up.
We live in a church culture that has largely treated sex as too base for the pulpit, and a secular culture that treats it as too sacred to surrender to God. The first whispers “that’s inappropriate.” The second screams “that’s mine.” Both are wrong.
So let’s address the most common objections, not with snark or spite, but with Scripture.
OBJECTION 1: “This is too graphic. You shouldn’t use words like ‘clitoris’ or ‘orgasm’ in Christian writing.”
Well... the Bible uses the word testicles (Deut. 23:1), discusses erections (Ezek. 23:20), references menstrual blood (Lev. 15), and has entire chapters dedicated to erotic poetry (Song of Songs 4, 7). God is not squeamish about the body—we are.
To name what God has created, with physiologically accurate terms, is not crassness—it is clarity with courage. Silence doesn’t make us holy; it makes us helpless. It leaves us illiterate in the language of our own bodies and impotent in our witness to a sexually confused world.
God made the body. God made pleasure. Naming them rightly is not vulgarity—it’s good and right applications of theology.
OBJECTION 2: “You’re over-spiritualizing sex. It’s a gift, not a gospel.”
Sex is not the gospel. But it is a pointer to it. That’s exactly what Paul says:
“The two shall become one flesh… This mystery is great, but I am speaking with reference to Christ and the Church.”
—Ephesians 5:31–32
Marriage is not just practical; it’s prophetic. It proclaims Christ. And within marriage, sex is the covenant's visible and intimate seal. It is the liturgy of oneness. It dramatizes what words cannot contain: faithfulness, delight, joy, union, exclusivity, and eternal covenant love.
If eating and drinking can be worship (1 Cor. 10:31), if daily chores can be done unto the Lord (Col. 3:23), then so can sexual union—especially when it is the very symbol God ordained to image His covenantal love.
OBJECTION 3: “This sounds like you're idolizing sex.”
Not remotely. This is, instead, about sanctifying sex. Idolatry takes a good gift and detaches it from God and then marrs it beyond recognition. But sanctification does the opposite—it returns the gift to its Giver and receives it with joy and reverence by defining it and applying it approrpriately.
The modern church’s chief error hasn’t been the idolatry of sex—it’s been neglecting it, allowing shame to silence us, and theological muteness to leave people mostly in the dark about what God says about it. The world didn't steal this subject from us—we handed it over by not speaking clearly, richly, and biblically about it.
The answer to sexual idolatry isn’t prudish puritanical silence; it’s a fuller, richer, more glorious theology that puts sex back in the sanctuary where it belongs.
OBJECTION 4: “This is dangerous. What about people in abusive marriages?”
This objection deserves tenderness. Abuse is a horrific violation of God’s design. And let me say it plainly: nothing in the original blog gives permission to domineering husbands, manipulative spouses, or anyone who uses the Bible as a bludgeon.
But we must not throw out biblical beauty because some people twist it.
The blog was written for faithful Christian marriages where the husband loves his wife as Christ loves the Church and the wife respects and honors her husband. In that sacred space, sex is not a tool of coercion but a gift of communion.
If your marriage is toxic or dangerous, seek help. You are not called to suffer under tyranny masquerading as theology.
OBJECTION 5: “This is not appropriate for young people.”
Let me ask you: Do you want YouTube, Netflix, and pornographic memes to be your child's sex ed curriculum? Because that has been what has happened when the church has become silent on these things.
Scripture commands fathers to train their children in righteousness (Eph. 6:4), and that includes how to think about marriage and sex (Proverbs 6:20-24). The timing of that instruction must be wise. But the content must be robust, beautiful, and biblical.
God gave you children. He also gave you their minds, their hearts, their questions, and their hormones. Don’t disciple one and ignore the others.
Our silence will not protect them. It will only expose them to false teachers.
OBJECTION 6: “This makes sex sound mandatory. Isn’t that legalistic?”
Here’s what 1 Corinthians 7:3–5 says:
“The husband must fulfill his duty to his wife, and likewise also the wife to her husband… Stop depriving one another…”
The Bible treats sex in marriage not as an optional bonus, but as a covenantal responsibility—an act of mutual love and joy.
That is not legalism if it is commanded! Legalism is finding your identity in your obedience. Joyfully obeying God and giving Him all the praise is not legalistic, it is faithfulness.
Of course, there are seasons of sickness, grief, or trauma where tenderness, communication, and patience are necessary. But over the course of a marriage, faithful sexual union is not only permissible—it’s prescribed. Not as a chore. As a delight.
You don’t have to have sex. You get to. And in Christ, that privilege is sanctified and sweet.
OBJECTION 7: “This is too dualistic. You say sex is either worship or idolatry. Isn’t there a middle ground?”
No. And that’s not my idea—it’s Paul’s:
“Whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.”
—1 Corinthians 10:31
“To the pure, all things are pure… but to the defiled, nothing is pure.”
—Titus 1:15
Sex is never neutral. It is always an act of the heart. It either bends Godward or selfward. It either reinforces covenant or rebels against it. There is no third option. And pretending there is only leads to confusion and compromise.
FINAL THOUGHT: The Real Scandal Isn’t This Blog—It’s Our Silence
The real scandal is that the world shouts about sex while the church speaks in whispers (intentional allusion to J.D. Greaer). The real scandal is that TikTok offers a louder theology of bodies, desire, and pleasure than most pulpits do. The real scandal is that we blush at holiness but laugh at perversion.
Sex is not Satan’s story—it is God's. And the church must reclaim it with reverence, conviction, and praise.
So if these words stirred you—good. That means you’re alive. And maybe it’s time we stopped surviving the conversation and started sanctifying it.
Let the marriage bed be held in honor among all (Hebrews 13:4). That includes the way we speak of it, teach it, and practice it—in faith, in joy, and in glory to the God who made it.
