Dock Resource Kit
Sunday sermon, 8 June 2025
In this second Romans Revisited talk, Phil explores the meaning of sexuality through the lens of Scripture, discipleship, and grace. Building on last week’s foundation of Scripture as our final authority, and drawing from Romans 1, 6, and 12 — as well as Genesis and the Gospels — he offers a compassionate and theologically rooted vision of the body, desire, and the covenant of marriage. Tracing the story of how we were made, where things got messy, and how Jesus mends our vision and our stories, this talk invites us into wholeness. With honesty, humility, and hope, Phil speaks to the complexity of living faithfully in today’s world, calling us to a life of embodied worship shaped by love, trust, and surrender.
Key Points & Takeways
Our bodies matter. They are temples of the Holy Spirit, not side notes to faith. What we do with them is spiritual and significant.
Desire is not the problem — disordered worship is. Romans 1 frames sexual brokenness within the larger story of misdirected worship. Desire needs redemption, not denial.
The biblical vision for sexuality is sacred and purposeful. Sex is powerful — like fire — and designed to be expressed within a lifelong covenant between a man and a woman.
Marriage is a signpost, not the destination. It points us to God’s faithful, difference-honouring love, but all of us — single or married, gay or straight — are called to live faithfully.
Faithfulness will be costly. For many, living out this vision involves sacrifice — but obedience to Jesus always leads to joy, not away from it.
There is no condemnation. Whatever our story, Jesus meets us with mercy. We are all invited to trust him again — with our desires, our relationships, and our identity.
We live this out together. The Church must be a place of grace, truth, and shared discipleship — where no one walks alone.
Dock Discussion Questions
What stood out to you most from the teaching — and why?
(Open space for honest reactions without forcing anyone to defend or debate.)
How does the idea of offering our bodies as “living sacrifices” challenge or inspire you in your current season of life?
(Ground in discipleship and apply across relationship statuses.)
Phil spoke about sexuality as not just about sex, but about being relational, desiring people shaped by love. What does that broader understanding of sexuality mean for how we live faithfully as followers of Jesus?
(Reflect beyond marriage or sexual activity.)
Where might the Holy Spirit be inviting you to greater faithfulness — in desire, relationship, or identity — and how can we support one another as a community in that?
(Think personal application but also community response, with grace.)
Long-form, editted transcript
Romans Revisited.
Mended By Grace: The Body, Sexuality and Marriage
Grace and Conviction
Holding Orthodoxy Generously
Well, if you're visiting today — welcome. You’ve landed on a wonderfully light and breezy Sunday... the one where we’re talking about bodies, sexuality, and what it means to follow Jesus with our desires in a world of TikTok, Tinder, and theological tension.
So yes — welcome.
You’ve really picked a good one.
But honestly — I’m glad you’re here. Because this isn’t just a big topic — it’s one of the most personal, formative, and sometimes painful conversations we have in the Church. Because none of us come to it empty-handed. We all carry something in with us: stories, friendships, convictions, regrets, baggage — maybe even a bit of anxiety.
My hope today isn’t to add more weight to that, but to gently open the box and ask together: what might Jesus want to do with all of this?
So let’s not begin with our opinions or fears, but with the Word of God and a short bundle of readings — just to set the scene — from creation, from Jesus, and from Paul’s letter to the Romans. These will give us a springboard into the conversation ahead.
Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice…
Do not let sin reign in your mortal body… offer every part of yourself to him as an instrument of righteousness.
Then God said, “Let us make mankind in our image”… male and female he created them. God blessed them and said, “Be fruitful…”
“Haven’t you read,” Jesus said, “that at the beginning the Creator ‘made them male and female’… and the two will become one flesh”?
(Romans 12:1–2; 6:12–13; Genesis 1:26–28; Matthew 19:4–6)
This is the Word of the Lord!
Throughout June and July we’re continuing our Romans Revisited series, wrestling with some of the thornier parts of Paul’s letter here to the early church, and each week we’re taking a key doctrine — a teaching from the church of history — and today we’ll look at the Doctrine of Marriage, and what it means to honour God with our bodies and our sexuality.
Right away, I want to acknowledge again that this isn’t a theoretical topic. It touches our real lives, real desires, and real relationships. It’s also an area where many of us carry questions, pain, deep convictions, or confusion.
Some of you may already know what you believe. Others might be unsure. Some may feel tired of the Church’s voice on this, or nervous about what’s coming next. Wherever you find yourself today, I want to ask you to stay open — to Scripture, to each other, and to the Spirit of God.
I also want to acknowledge up front that there are faithful Christians — people I deeply respect — who come to different conclusions than I do about Christian sexual ethics.
Some would say that the historic biblical Christian vision of marriage and sexuality needs to be re-examined today, and that Scripture must be read afresh in light of new cultural understanding and personal experience. That includes same-sex relationships — but also wider conversations around identity, gender, and the nature of desire itself.
I want to honour the sincerity and pastoral concern behind that. But I also want to be honest: I don’t share that conviction.
I believe Scripture offers a consistent and life-giving vision — one that remains trustworthy, even when it challenges us.
And I believe departing from it — even with the best intentions — takes us away from the foundations we laid together last week:
that Scripture, shaped by mercy and centred on Christ, remains our final authority.
But today’s talk isn’t about why others are wrong. It’s about what Scripture calls us towards — God’s vision for our bodies, our desires, and our relationships. We’ll look at how we were made, where things got messy, and how Jesus mends us and leads us on.
Just to say — if you missed last week’s talk, you can catch up online. We laid some foundations around Scripture and conscience and a framework that really shape this whole series. There are also group questions on the website if you want to reflect more deeply, especially in your Docks and small groups.
Made
A Theology of the Body
But let’s begin here — with the body.
Not sex. Not shame. Not struggle.
But our bodies themselves.
Who knows their body is a temple?
If I’m honest, mine feels more like a youth hostel sometimes — messy, overused, and in need of a few overdue repairs.
We live in a world with body issues. A noisy culture that treats the body as either ultimate — your brand, your value, your identity — or irrelevant — just something to escape, fix, or scroll past.
But the gospel gives us a better vision:
your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit.
A place of honour, dignity, and worship.
Paul is clear in Romans:
what happens with our bodies is not just physical — it’s spiritual.
It’s worship.
That’s why Paul writes, offer your bodies as a living sacrifice… don’t offer parts of your body to sin, but to righteousness.
Your body is not a side note to your faith.
It’s central to your discipleship.
From the beginning, Scripture gives us a high view of the body. We are created — male and female — in the image of God. Not just our souls. Our physicality is part of how we reflect his glory. And what God creates, he calls very good.
That means everything we do with our temple matters — how we eat, rest, work, workout, speak, carry pain, and express joy. And within that, sexuality is one part of the gift. Not the whole — but a meaningful part.
And just to say — sexuality is more than just having sex. It’s about how we live as relational, desiring people — how we give and receive love through our bodies.
Scripture tells us we are made in the image of God — and that God is love. That means our longings, our capacity for desire and connection, are not random or shameful. They reflect something deep and sacred: the divine desire to know and be known. Whether through friendship, affection, sacrifice, or intimacy, we were made to live lives of love — shaped by trust, faithfulness, and self-giving.
When our desires are ordered towards God’s love and design, our sexuality becomes more than personal expression — it becomes worship. A way of offering our very selves in response to the One who made us, knows us, and loves us.
From the beginning, Scripture gives us a picture of this: the coming together of male and female in lifelong, self-giving union. A love that says, I am yours, and you are mine.
This isn’t just biological — it’s theological.
It reflects God’s faithfulness and unity.
Of course, not everyone will express that love through marriage or sex.
Jesus didn’t. Paul didn’t. And yet they lived full, faithful, human lives.
But for those called to marriage, sex is meant to reflect something deeper than attraction or emotional connection — it points to something being itself — something sacred.
But before we move on, I want to pause here.
The body is good.
Desire is good.
Sexuality is good.
Because all desire, at its root, is meant to echo our deepest longing — the desire we were made for: to know and be known by God.
But like all of creation, in our messy world, our desires need to be redeemed — not rejected, not indulged — but redeemed.
And that’s what we’re going to look at next.
Messy
The Story Behind Romans 1
So, if our bodies are good, and desire is good, and sex is a gift — why do we carry so much confusion, pain, and shame around these things?
This is where Romans 1 begins to speak.
Not primarily as a passage about sex, but as part of Paul’s wider diagnosis of the human condition. And it doesn’t begin with desire — it begins with worship.
Paul’s argument is that when humanity turned away from God — when we stopped honouring him and gave our worship to other things, to created things instead — everything else started to fall apart.
Desire gets distorted. Wisdom becomes foolishness. Bodies are misused.
Relationships fracture. Paul’s language is clear — that: we exchanged the truth of God for a lie.
When worship unravels, everything else does too.
So, let me read a short section of Romans 1.
It’s not an easy passage — but it describes the fall of humanity and names the turning from God that plays out all around us, and often within us.
Romans 1:21–27
For although they knew God, they neither glorified him as God nor gave thanks to him, but their thinking became futile and their foolish hearts were darkened. Although they claimed to be wise, they became fools and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images made to look like a mortal human being and birds and animals and reptiles.Therefore God gave them over in the sinful desires of their hearts to sexual impurity for the degrading of their bodies with one another. They exchanged the truth about God for a lie, and worshiped and served created things rather than the Creator—who is forever praised. Amen.
Because of this, God gave them over to shameful lusts. Even their women exchanged natural sexual relations for unnatural ones. In the same way the men also abandoned natural relations with women and were inflamed with lust for one another. Men committed shameful acts with other men, and received in themselves the due penalty for their error.
There’s no getting around it — this is a confronting passage.
Paul names same-sex sexual behaviour explicitly here — for both men and women. And while that may feel deeply uncomfortable, it’s important to engage with it, and to notice what’s happening: because Paul’s not isolating this as the problem — he’s using it as just one example within a much larger diagnosis of what happens when worship breaks down.
In fact, he goes on to list all kinds of symptoms of that breakdown: greed, envy, arrogance, deceit, gossip, violence. Paul paints a picture of a world unravelled — and it’s one we all recognise. In our newsfeeds. In our communities. And, if we’re honest, in ourselves.
But the key to understanding Romans 1 is that this isn’t the conclusion of Paul’s argument — it’s the setup. He’s drawing in the religious listener — the one who hears all this and thinks, “Yes! That’s exactly what’s wrong with the world.” And then in chapter 2, Paul turns the mirror around and says: “You, therefore, have no excuse.”
In other words — this isn’t just about them; it’s about you.
It’s about all of us.
That’s why we must never weaponise this passage. Paul isn’t drawing a target — he’s holding up a mirror. This is not a mic drop against a particular group — it’s a mirror for the whole world. If we use it simply to condemn others without continuing to examining ourselves, we’ve missed the point.
And we also need to be clear: while this passage is undeniably negative in tone, it speaks about behaviour, not orientation. The Bible does not condemn anyone for being same-sex attracted. What it does consistently address is the distortion of God’s design through sexual activity outside the covenant of faithful male–female union — marriage.
And that’s something most scholars — even those who may take different pastoral approaches today — agree the text is saying. The bigger debate in our culture, and in some parts of the Church, is often not about what the Bible says, but about how — or whether — we still apply that teaching today, especially in light of shifting cultural values and people’s genuine and sincere lived experience.
It’s also important to say: this passage, and Scripture as a whole, doesn’t only challenge same-sex sexual behaviour. It challenges all sexual expression outside the biblical pattern of male–female marriage — including: casual sex, pornography, lust, emotionally entangled relationships without commitment, or patterns of shared life or intimacy that aren’t grounded in covenanted faithfulness.
So the point here is not to single anyone out. It’s to help all of us see what’s true: that when worship goes wrong, desire goes wrong. And when desire gets disordered, we stop living into the design we were made for.
But thank God — Romans doesn’t end in chapter 1.
Jesus Mends Our Vision
A Picture of Holy Desire
You might be thinking,
“Phil, this is all feeling a bit intense…”
And it is a bit. But that really isn’t the end of the story.
Because Jesus didn’t just come to challenge what’s wrong — he came to restore and make right. To mend our vision of what it means to be human, to desire, and to love — not with shame, but with grace.
There are many times I’ve heard someone say, “The Church has spent so long talking about what sex is not, we’ve forgotten how to say what it is.”
So rather than focusing on boundaries, we need to turn back to beauty.
Because sexuality was never meant to be a source of struggle — it was meant to be a signpost to something holy.
So let me return for a moment to sex — and the Church’s Doctrine of Marriage — and reaffirm that Scripture doesn’t treat sex as dirty or dangerous — it treats it as powerful.
Like fire: beautiful and life-giving in the right place, but destructive when it’s not. And the place God designed for that fire to burn is within a covenant — the committed, faithful, exclusive, lifelong union between a man and a woman — which we call marriage.
We see this first in the creation story in Genesis, and it’s repeated and affirmed by Jesus himself in the gospels.
And while that vision might sound restrictive, it’s not about limiting intimacy — it’s about elevating it to something sacred.
To really understand this, we need to rewind to the beginning where the Bible opens with diversity in creation — male and female, distinct yet equal, created for one another in a way that reflects the image of God. That difference isn’t random — it’s theological. Because there’s something in the union of difference — in male and female coming together — that echoes the relational love of God the Trinity: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, distinct yet perfectly united.
And Scripture takes that picture even further in the New Testament. As Jesus comes to heal and restore what’s been broken, Paul writes in Ephesians that marriage becomes a signpost — a holy mystery that reflects the love between Christ and the Church — his bride. A love that brings difference into unity, marked by sacrifice, faithfulness, and joy.
Marriage, as understood in Scripture, is far more than a tradition or a cultural or legal device within society. It is a theological thread running through both creation and new creation — pointing us to the God who loves, commits, and redeems.
I find it helpful to remember of this kind of God-ordered covenantal love as a duet — two voices, distinct but deeply in tune, creating something more beautiful together than either could alone.
That’s the heart of the biblical vision for sexuality: not competition, not performance, not unison, but harmony — in tune with one another, with God’s love and design.
And in marriage at its best, this kind of duet — this kind of love — is marked by diversity, unity, exclusivity, and tenacity. And when it’s shaped by God’s love, it becomes something that sings — something truly sacred.
So, this vision of sexuality, held within marriage — shaped by God’s love and design — is meant to be:
Diverse — rooted in the difference of male and female.
Unified — bringing two into one in covenant.
Exclusive — a love set apart for one other.
Tenacious — holding fast in faithfulness over time.
Again that’s not a checklist — it’s a picture.
A picture meant to point beyond itself. Marriage in Scripture is always a signpost — not the destination. It’s meant to point us toward the love of Christ.
One of the best things about my job is that I get to officiate at weddings, I love it. At the beginning of wedding services in the Church of England, there’s a beautiful preface that includes these words:
Marriage is a gift of God in creation… a way of life made holy by God… a sign of unity and loyalty which all should uphold and honour.
Marriage, then, is not just for the married. It’s a gift from God — something we all honour, all learn from, and all are blessed by. But even as we uphold that vision, we recognise: marriage is not the only place where love is lived, and sex is not the only way our sexuality is expressed.
All of us — single or married, widowed or divorced, gay or straight — are invited to live in tune with God’s love and design. Because Christian sexuality isn’t just about sex — it’s about faithfulness with our whole selves: our desires, our relationships, our bodies, and our longings. It’s about each of us offering all of this to God, as an act of worship.
That’s why this teaching is for everyone, no matter where we find ourselves, or what season we are in. Because the invitation is the same: to let Jesus shape us in love — and to live in such a way that our lives, whatever our circumstances, always point others back to him.
Jesus Mends Our Stories
Faithfulness in a Complex World
So, are you still with me?
We’ve looked at how we were made — how our bodies and desires were created good and full of purpose.
We’ve been honest about where it got messy — how worship goes wrong, and with it, our understanding of sex, identity, and love.
And we’ve begun to see how Jesus mends our vision — offering a better story, one shaped by grace.
But now comes the real challenge:
how do we live that out — in a world like ours, with all its complexity, its pressures, and its deeply personal stories?
And before we move on, I just want to name something important. I speak today as a middle-aged, married, heterosexual man. That doesn’t make what I’ve said less true — but it does shape how I say it. I know that for some of you, the cost of faithfulness in this area is far greater than anything I’ve had to carry. And I want to honour that.
The truth is, for many of us, living this out will feel costly.
It’s costly for the single person, longing for connection, who is learning to believe that their life is not lacking — that it can be full and whole in Christ.
It’s costly for the couple who are dating and trying to wait — not because they don’t love each other, but because they really do.
It’s costly for the married couple navigating broken trust, disappointment, or unfulfilled intimacy.
And it’s especially costly for those who are same-sex attracted and choosing celibacy — not out of shame, but out of radical faithfulness to Jesus.
If that’s you — or if you’re walking alongside someone who is living that out — I want you to hear that your obedience matters. Your quiet faithfulness is seen. It points people to Jesus. And you are not alone.
But I also want to say something to those who aren’t currently living in line with this vision. Maybe you’re sleeping with someone outside of marriage. Maybe you’re in a same-sex relationship and unsure where you stand. Maybe your sexual history feels complex or painful. If that’s you — please hear this: you are not excluded. You are not being singled out. Jesus is full of grace for you. You are welcome here. And you are loved.
There’s a beautiful moment in John 8 where a woman caught in sexual sin is brought before Jesus. Her accusers are ready to condemn her — but he sends them away with a challenge. Then, turning to her with deep kindness, Jesus says, “I do not condemn you. Now go and sin no more.” Notice the order — he doesn’t say, “Go and sin no more, and I won’t condemn you.” Grace always comes first. Always.
And that’s my heart today. My job is not to condemn anyone — rather to echo Paul’s words in Romans 8: “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” And in light of that love, to faithfully teach what I understand from Scripture to be God’s vision for our lives — so that we might respond to Jesus with trust, and begin to walk in his way, by his grace.
And none of us is called to live this out in isolation. We are meant to journey this together — as a Church that honours one another’s sacrifices, carries one another’s burdens, and refuses to treat anyone as less than whole because of their relationship status or orientation.
We want to be that kind of community — and that takes more than sermons. It takes honesty. It takes trust. It takes open conversations and shared life.
So let me encourage you — keep talking, especially in your Docks and small groups. Be brave. Be kind. Be curious. Ask questions. Share stories. Learn from one another. And always come back to Scripture together — not just for answers, but for grace.
Because this isn’t about policing people’s behaviour. It’s about becoming a people shaped by love and holiness, a community that lives as if our bodies — and our relationships — really do belong to Jesus.
Mended for Worship
A Call to Surrender and Joy
So where does this leave us?
At its heart, this hasn’t really been a talk about sex. It’s been a talk about healing. About worship. About wholeness. About what it means to be mended by grace — and to honour God with every part of who we are.
And that kind of healing — real, deep, transformative healing — always involves surrender. It always costs something.
Following Jesus will always cost something. For some of us, that cost is visible. For others, it’s hidden. But the invitation is the same: to trust that his way is good. To believe that obedience doesn’t kill joy — it leads us into it. That his grace is enough not just to forgive, but to transform.
Before we worship again, let’s take a moment to pause.
You might want to close your eyes — and take a breath. You might want to place your hands open in your lap — a quiet sign of surrender. You might want to bring something before God — a desire, a regret, a relationship, a part of your story.
And as we sit in the stillness, let’s ask:
God, what might it look like for me to honour you with my body this week?
What might it look like to trust you again — with my desires, my identity, my relationships, my story?
Jesus, we bring these things before you.
You are gentle with the broken.
You are kind to the confused.
You are strong for the weary.
Shape us in your love.
Teach us your way.
Lead us on.
Amen.
Lord Jesus,
You made us.
You know us.
You see every part of us.
You call us to trust you, to follow you, and to offer our bodies as living sacrifices.
Meet us with in your mercy.
Form us with grace.
Strengthen us whose obedience is costly.
And teach us to walk in your way —
with joy, with faith, and with love.
Amen.