Skip to main content

Lower than the Angels: a history of Sex and Christianity DIARMAID MACCULLOCH

 

 


‘Lower than the Angels: a history of Sex and Christianity’ by Diarmaid MacCulloch, published by Allen Lane, 2024. This review first appeared in the patronal issue of The Parish Paper at St Peter’s Church, Eastern Hill, Melbourne, June 2025.

 Anyone familiar with Diarmaid MacCulloch’s breadth and depth of research and his powers of synthesis is inspired anew by his latest big-picture history of Christianity. His confessed purpose is to unsettle settled ideas. Indeed, when it comes to his chosen subject of sex, the reader must reconsider all manner of lifetime assumptions, left wondering what conclusions can be drawn.

 

Just two assumptions are enough for starters.

1.     There have always been church weddings. This assumption is flatly disproven by MacCulloch. The church in early centuries had remarkably little to do with the ceremonies of marriage, a fact supported by a complete lack of any liturgical evidence. Blessings of marriage evolve, with a noticeable respect for and compliance with the social norms in which a church found itself. Marriage as a sacrament is slow to appear, noticeably in the Eastern Church. This interplay between the civil and ecclesiastical expectations continues through time, as for example in the debate over same-sex marriage today where observers, including many in the churches, think it high time that the laws about marriage should belong entirely with the state. Traditional church weddings only evolved, in various cultural fashions, in the past third of Christian history.     

2.     The clergy will be celibate and unmarried. MacCulloch explains that this assumption can be traced to what he declares ‘the first sexual revolution’ of the 11th century and Pope Gregory VII. By conflating (or confusing) two separate Christian vocations, celibacy and priesthood, his reform remedied certain questions of clerical property, ritual purity, and social conformity, while instituting a change that is unique in Christian history and has never been attempted by any branch of Christianity. When the Protestant Reformation occurred three centuries later, the author remarks pointedly that emphasis may have varied on Luther’s influential teaching of ‘faith alone’ but everyone agreed entirely that clergy marriage be restored, with celibacy as a choice not a rule. And as he adds, this question vexes many in the Roman Catholic Church to this day.

 

Some reviewers have teased the author for writing a book palpably by an educated Anglican of a certain age. Half his luck, and ours. After all, he is part of a culture where these questions can be revised and reappraised. His perspective is not limited, or controlled, by the church in which he belongs. Moreover, at many turns MacCulloch’s concerns are sparked by arguments with his own Church of England. While its grand scheme is to describe the intersection of two of the world’s biggest questions – religion and sex – underneath there is a subtle polemic about how a local church (the English one) addresses, or more often fails to address, the common experience of human sexuality. His own gay identity, including attendant trials by church, are catalysts for the text. A reader may marvel at the book’s measured, even droll, tone as well as his sympathetic long view of the complex tangle people get into over sex. A subject, as the author reminds us, that is not even a doctrine.  

 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Why did Dante write The Divine Comedy?

This is one of two short papers given by Philip Harvey at the first Spiritual Reading Group session for 2014 on Tuesday the 18 th of February in the Carmelite Library in Middle Park. He also gave a paper on that occasion, which can be found on the Library blog, entitled ‘A Rationale for Purgatory’ . Nadezhda Mandelstam recalls in one of her books how her husband, the Russian poet Osip Mandelstam, would say that when reading poetry we can spend a great deal of time discussing what it means, but the first and main question about a poem is not what does it mean, but why was it written. That is the place to start. Here are eleven reasons that I offer quietly to help us think about this poem: Why did Dante write The Divine Comedy? You may have other reasons and these are invited. We will spend most of our time today looking at meanings, but also at why. I wrote these out as they occurred to me, so there is no priority order. 1.      He wrote the poem because ...

The Walk (Seamus Heaney)

This poem was read aloud at Janet Campbell’s funeral in Hamilton in Victoria in December 2006. Janet was a great lover of poetry all her life, a great reader of poetry, and she read everything of Seamus Heaney. Indeed, when she worked in Melbourne or London bookshops Janet would grab hold of Faber pre-publication copies of Heaney if they came into the backroom, and disappear for days, copying lines onto postcards for her friends, transferring lines into her lifetime of diaries. Diaries that were also a lifeline. Janet read everything, but Heaney was one of the regulars. Seamus Heaney keeps a tight line. He is rarely though completely opaque and the way into this poem is the word ‘longshot’. We only find in the second of the two poems that we are being asked to look at two photographs. Or, at least, poems that are like photographs. Or, better still, strong memories that have taken on in the mind the nature of longshots. The two poems in one are reminders of close relationships. ...

The Poetry of Rowan Williams

Rowan Williams delivers the twelfth John Rylands Poetry Reading last year   This is a paper given by Philip Harvey in the Hughes Room at St Peter’s Church, Eastern Hill, Melbourne on Sunday the 6 th of December as one in an Advent series on religious poets. The original title of the paper was ‘The text that maps our losses and longings’. Everything Rowan Williams says and writes reveals a person with a highly developed sensitivity to language, its force, directness, instantaneousness, its subtlety, indirectness, longevity. A person though may speak three languages fluently and read at least nine languages with ease, as he does, and still not engage with language in the way we are looking at here. Because Rowan is unquestionably someone with a poetic gift. By that I don’t just mean he writes poetry, I mean he engages with the life of words, their meanings, ambiguities, colours, their playfulness, invention, sounds. We find this in those writings of his that delibe...