As we wrap up our month-long series on sacred sexuality this week, it’s finally time to talk about sex. Good sex. Not just the ways that religion has been used to oppress and shame people’s sexuality. Not just the personal opinions of one prolific letter writer who never actually met Jesus. Not just the warped story around a single word that no longer means what it was supposed to mean.
But good old-fashioned, healthy, enjoyable sex.
I’ll cut to the chase on this one: I think the Magdalene path not only condones but celebrates joyful sexuality. I think it holds good sex as a possible path to spiritual transformation. And I think it does not limit sexual expression to any one combination of genders.
And that’s exactly why it’s been oppressed. Because good sex is radical and revolutionary.
One of the biggest questions surrounding Mary Magdalene is whether or not she was married to Jesus. I’ve written before about one of the reasons why I think that question matters. It matters in large part because it speaks to her intended importance in the Jesus movement. Was she just another follower, or was she his partner and equal. Did she really know him better than anyone else in his circles, as Peter so often claims in the extra-canonical gospels? If the answer is yes, then it certainly seems that the mainstream church got most things wrong about gender, leadership, and women’s role in religion.
But it also matters because of the implications it has around sex.
Does Christian theology change if its Lord and Savior got laid?
Mainstream Christianity holds that Jesus was unmarried—and by extension, celibate—his entire life. His celibacy is often used to prop up the story that he was somehow better, more “pure,” and less sinful than average humans. The theological implication here is that sexual engagement is inherently sinful. To say that Jesus was free from sin by remaining single celibate implies that even sex within marriage somehow taints one’s holiness. And thus we see all kinds of problematic theological outcomes of how the church relates to even married sex.
The non-canonical gospels offer us a different view of sex. Both the Gospel of Philip and the Pistis Sophia employ imagery of the “bridal chamber” as a metaphor for spiritual transformation. It uses the idea of love and tenderness expressed on one’s wedding night as a stand-in for God’s love for humanity. Of course, we all know the suggested activity on one’s wedding night, and in these texts, that activity is presented as transformational and transcendent.
Both gospels also both do something else: They both portray Jesus and Mary Magdalene as a romantic couple, and an example of this kind of holy, transformative, and inherently sexual love. Neither shies away from the physical intimacy they say Jesus and Mary had, and they certainly present them as having experienced the exact type of transformation that holy sexual encounters can bring. They are not wiser and more holy for not engaging in sex; they are wise and holy in part because they did.
And the nature of their relationship is crucial here as we look to Jesus and Mary as examples of healthy, holy sexuality: They are equals. Jesus doesn’t lord over Mary just because he’s the figurehead of the Christ movement. He praises her spiritual acumen, holds her up as an example of faith and wisdom, and acknowledges her importance in his work. He is tender, kind, and loving toward her. He does not tolerate disrespect toward her from the male disciples and defends her at every opportunity. And in turn, she is to him. They are partners, ones who love and respect one another.
They are, indeed, examples worth following.
And the Gospel of Philip in particular is clear that good sex, holy sex, is not contingent on gender. In fact, in the pursuit of holy sexuality, gender becomes irrelevant. Sex with a loved one becomes a place to transcend gender and experience soul connection. That’s not to say that all sex must take place exclusively in loving relationship; casual sexual experiences are perfectly valid, as long as all involved engage from a place of respect for one another. But rather, there are no gender-conforming prerequisites for good, holy sex. All partners can arrive as they are and experience the goodness of bodies enjoying one another.
The Magdalene path is ultimate about revealing what has been hidden. And when it comes to sex and sexuality, what has been hidden from us is the right—the permission—to freely have hot, holy, life-affirming sex. Sex is not meant to be constrained. It is meant to be engaged with mindfully and joyfully. And through that, we experience transformation.
I’ll boldly insert my opinion here: I believe Jesus and Mary Magdalene were, indeed, romantic partners, most likely married, and very much in love. I believe they practiced spiritual sexuality as part of their path to enlightenment. And I believe they serve as beautiful examples of what a healthy, holy, divinely-ordained sex life can look like.
And from them, we learn: Have sex. Have good sex. Have sex with someone who is your equal. Have sex with someone who sees both your humanity and your divinity. Have transformative sex that transcends the confines of gender. Have sex and let it remind you that you are loved.
Have sex and know that it is good.
Just like Jesus and Mary did.
Thank you for reading! Next week is our one-year anniversary, so we’ll pause for a little reflection on writing about Magdalene theology for a year.
After that, we’ll start a four-week series called Men in the Early Church. We’ve talked about how women shaped the church. Now we want to look at men’s role… for better and for worse. Join us later in June for hot takes on how to read Paul’s letters, Peter’s legendary “hot-headedness,” and why moving church out of people’s homes shaped what it looks like today. See you then!
Somewhere in the Vatican, a smoke alarm just went off and nobody’s even lit a candle.
This is the gospel that got buried because it couldn't be controlled. Tender, embodied, ecstatic, equal—no wonder the empire panicked.
Thank you for resurrecting what puritans tried to crucify: not just Mary’s voice, but her pleasure, her power, and her place beside the Christ—not beneath him.
Bless this holy scandal.
Virgin Monk Boy
I've read these text and I don't see it. Not that I'm opposed, as an idea it seems sensible, not unholy, certainly not contradicted by the texts, but I just can't find that extra thing, anything extra, that would confirm as a yes. Rumor says she was sort of a rich kid, a billionaire, and a sort of rock star, like Madonna, but had a good heart and gave it up for something more essential and profound. These can't be proven, but explains why they took the dreadful "prostitute" line in the Middle Ages. Joseph of Arimthea was also a billionaire and as Nero came on, fled to England. Why? Some of his fortune was from tin mines there. Jesus knew many, being a celebrity there.
Perhaps for fun, you could look on Anne Emmerich who had startling visions of things she couldn't possibly know in 1820 Germany, certain things about weaving, basketry, rooms, and for example in the Garden of Eden, with one tree being as big as a barn, with a forest of trunks which is a fig, something nobody even now knows, as a Banyan. For example.