Gordon Monson: Message to Latter-day Saint couples — God wants you to have better sex

Sex is good.

Brothers and sisters, say it with me now,

S-e-x is good.

Done right, it can be great!

Can I get an amen to that?

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Two things: First, I have a rule not to use exclamation points, but in this case I’ll make an exception. Second, I didn’t have to read Latter-day Saint sex therapist Jennifer Finlayson-Fife’s new book, “That We Might Have Joy: Desire, Divinity & Intimate Love,” to understand those glorious facts of life. But having reviewed every chapter before the book’s Sept. 30 launch, I understand them even better now.

And you can, too.

The recommendation here is for every faithful married couple in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and unfaithful ones, as well — err, maybe that didn’t come out just right — to read this guide. In truth, every individual in the church, married or single, young or old, overly amorous or prudish, anyone interested in a meaningful relationship, should give it a long, loving, lusty look.

It helps and heals, in a straightforward, comprehensive way, what never should have been made clumsy or dirty or sick, but, unfortunately, inside the religion too often is. It emphasizes that sex and human bodies are to be loved. I haven’t read literature that so deftly mixes sexuality and spirituality since skimming over — OK, intently studying, chapter and verse — the Old Testament’s Song of Solomon:

“How much better is thy love than wine! and the smell of thine ointments than all spices! ... Thy two breasts are…”

Uh. Where were we? Oh, yeah.

Finlayson-Fife soothingly and practically untangles some of the knots so prevalent among Latter-day Saints when it comes to sex. She identifies and discusses those issues, those potential problems, many of her examples coming from actual clients — the names have been changed — who have shared their troubles and triumphs with her in search of happy sex solutions. And the doctor offers sensible and sensual solutions here.

Let’s say it all plain: The restrictions preached to and put upon church members, especially when they are impressionably young, about abstaining from sex — avoiding it as a dreaded sin — until they marry sometimes muddy the waters for a healthy approach to relations, for a fun and fulfilling mix of the sexual and spiritual, after these followers exchange vows.

‘A more soulful kind of sex’

The unnecessary nasty aftertaste lingers, at times spilling over from that strict premarital prohibition, spoiling or at least complicating, in marriage what should be one of life’s finest refreshments. As Finlayson-Fife writes: “Marriage can deepen our ability to love, including our ability to love erotically.”

In one chapter, she writes about a couple, spouses who were willing to face their individual varied difficulties, including personal insecurities blocking their ability or willingness to communicate and connect forthrightly. Becoming more self-aware, they did what they could to solve that disconnect. Finlayson-Fife surmises: “Couples fall more deeply in love and feel more alive when they love at the edge of their capacity — when they are willing to reach for what is better for the sake of love. [This particular couple’s] courage resulted in deeper acceptance and joy between them as well as a more soulful kind of sex.”

The emphasis before marriage on not just dodging sex at all costs and every turn, but also, for females, dressing modestly, keeping their bodies duly covered, sends a sorry message that while the body is a sacred temple, certain body parts are somehow begrimed, to be hidden, that sexuality itself is ungodly, creating a conflict in some people’s minds that does not simply disappear after finding love and getting married.

Suppression of sex and freaking out over erotic or even artistic images of the physical form can make matters worse. Interestingly, Finlayson-Fife indicates the following: “The paradox in sexuality is that the more we make something prohibited or private, the more we intensify its erotic charge.”

But that charge can, in some instances, short-circuit robust relations, like thirsty individuals attempting to drink out of a fire hose.

The whole idea of no-no-no, then suddenly go-go-go messes up some people, confusing and cluttering their approach to sex, stirring in them hang-ups that don’t just fade away once the I do’s are uttered. What was once forbidden and unclean mistakenly remains seen that way. The irony there is that actual church teachings espouse the opposite. Namely, that a wife and husband, whatever their background, can deepen their affection for and connection with one another, solidifying their oneness, through good love and good sex.

So it is that Finlayson-Fife says sexuality and spirituality are tethered, should be tethered, when fully understood and realized.

Her point is loud and clear: The heavens have no objection to spouses making their love better by making love. In fact, the heavens celebrate it. It’s a celestial gift.

That’s not to say marital eroticism can’t be creative and adventuresome, that it shouldn’t sizzle. Nobody’s suggesting that a hymn be sung before and after turning out the lights.

That’s my phraseology, not hers, but these moments of passion, designed to be enjoyed, are sanctioned from on high.

Finlayson-Fife dives into intimacy in marriage beyond just the physical and hopefully pleasurable acts, expanding on the version of it that grows in a relationship with respect, equality, truth, honesty and trust, in good times and bad, in moments of comfort and vulnerable discomfort. “It means,” she writes, “resisting the urge to hide, to punish, or to retreat when disappointment arises — whether in ourselves or in our partner.”

She adds: “Our capacity for personal and spiritual growth is directly tied to how much truth we are willing to integrate,” adding further that “the one we share a bed with” is best able to help each partner grow individually and together, all of which leads to a better relationship and better sex.

Sex as an ‘act of faith’

The therapist dispels a number of common misperceptions many Latter-day Saints pick up en route to and in pursuit of clean living. And there’s a whole lot more, including specific trips through basic human psychology, all of which underscores the clear usefulness for church members, and nonmembers alike, to read the book and put its principles into practice. You can thank me — and thank the author — later. The Latter-day Saint perspective is obvious, but that shouldn’t preclude married couples of other faiths or of little faith from benefiting from Finlayson-Fife’s instructions.

She hits chapter topics such as: a spiritual communion, women’s struggle with desire (shame and suppression), the silent struggle of men, role-playing in marriage, intimacy beyond validation, changing minds, spiritual development and the integration of sexuality, discovering the soul of sex, an embodied sensual faith, and lessons toward a child’s sexual integration.

Her many etudes include that human bodies offer a powerful way to love and be loved, that desire and pleasure are wonderful parts of being human, that how people respond to desire will largely define their quality of life and that sex is integral to the human soul.

I especially like that last one. How about you?

“Intimate sex in marriage is indeed a kind of sacred surrender — an act of faith, even,” Finlayson-Fife writes. “To open our hearts to the compassion and care of a spouse requires courage. It asks us to believe not only in the reality of love itself but in our lovability. It also requires faith in a God who wants us to experience the safety and solace of intimate connection — a God who wants us to know joy through one another. In accepting the gift of our eroticism, we become more able to love through it and to create beauty with it.”

It’s like this: Humans — Latter-day Saints or otherwise — can view and utilize sex any which way they choose. But for married partners seeking a meaningful connection, sex, along with all the kind and loving foundational stuff leading up to it, can make that erotic connection exciting and extraordinary, eventful and earthshaking, substantial and significant.

As Finlayson-Fife tells me to tell you, when I asked about her goal:

“I want to help Latter-day Saints see that their beliefs provide a way for human intimacy, for sexuality to increase their joy, to enable them to find peace within themselves and their marriages.”

Which is to say: Sex is good and can be great!

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