So what do you think of when you hear the word “intimate”? As in intimate relationship—a universal euphemism and legal term for sexual relations. Or perhaps intimate apparel as in the kind of lingerie you would not buy your mother ever? Or intimate atmosphere—as in that little bistro where you can take your first, or maybe second or third date, gleaming with candlelight, sparkling crystal, soft gypsy music playing in the background, and a high price for the ambience alone, not to mention the gourmet fare.

What I really want to ask you to consider is the word intimate as it is meant to mean—the inner-most sense of our being in relationship to others’ inner-most selves. My “I” to your “thou” as Martin Buber the Jewish philosopher would put it. That’s the opposite of my “I” to your being “It”, of game-playing, of pastimes, of using people as a means to an end, of one up-manship—or to include both genders—of one-up-personship. Imagine the mother and child bond as the ultimate example—and this deeply felt sense of close relationships, the possibilities for such a connection, stays with us all our life. Perhaps all that intimate atmosphere back in the candlelight bistro leads to that most intimate of all relationships—the bonding of mother, and I should include father here too, and child. Maybe it’s the conspiracy of nature to keep the world peopled.

Have you ever taken in the expression on the face of any mother anywhere with a baby or toddler, with no help from make up or hair stylist, she is radiant, she is totally transformed, totally absorbed in that little bit of humanity. She and the child are exquisite mirrors of each other, reflecting one bonding of flesh and spirit—the most vivid evidence of the life force in action before our eyes. And I have seen that expression on fathers’ faces also.

Other than that, we see very few examples of intimacy around us—think of the plays and dramas you have seen. If the people had been sincere, open, truly communicating there would be no conflict, if they had been intimate in the true sense of the word, what would happen? no plot at all, no conflict and no drama to entertain us.

Oh yes, I know in this jam-packed, fast- paced, In and Out Burger society, how can we have an I-Thou relationship with anyone in the course of a day?, We probably don’t have time for that in our own homes, not to mention the other people on the street, train or freeway. Privacy is kind of nice too, especially when you’re in the people business and overwhelmed with relationships as professional duties. When I am on the plane for instance, I do not want any chit-chat with the stranger next to me-above the clouds, across the time zones—much less an I-thou or anything approaching a meaningful conversation—just leave me alone in sweet, uninterrupted time to read, think, dream or doze. A friend of mine counsels that the best way to avoid unwanted plane conversations is to start quoting from the Bible.

Still, I am aware, as perhaps you are too, of a hunger for intimacy that goes beyond our need for self-determination and privacy. People are starved for a new level of exchange— deeper, more honest sharing. We have an emptiness and yearning for that kind of closeness we once had but do not have as adults. People who have had close friendships as children may remember—I had a friend named Beverly who would come over to my house on Friday afternoons—(I never went to her house because her mother worried too much about our breaking her antiques). First on our agenda was to ask my mother if Beverly could spend the night, if my mother hemmed and hawed, said “maybe or we’ll see” we would go up to my room , throw our ten year old bodies on the bed and pray fervently to God that she could stay over. How urgent it was to us! sometimes it worked, sometimes God, or Bev’s mother, or my mother had other plans.

I learned a lot about the ups and downs of close friendship from Beverly—we would do what ten year old girls do, giggle so much we would roll on the floor with laughter, dress up and pretend to be movie stars at my dressing table, sipping ginger ale out of my parents’ martini glasses, but by the next day we would usually have a fight and Beverly would call her mom to come get her or walk home in a fit of pique. And then a week goes by, the next Friday, chances are, our pleas go out to that same God of overnight girlfriends’ desires once again. I also learned, alas, at an early age, of the vagaries of theology, that God does not answer all prayers—Perhaps we should have prayed to the Virgin Mary.

Simpler times, but the need for human closeness never leaves us: a deep physical yearning for soul and body connection. Childhood friendships teach us how to be honest, goofy, vain, dramatic, jealous, competitive and sometimes downright mean. But they can ideally teach us how to survive all the teasings and tossings about as we grow up: a lesson of childhood is facing the need to win sometimes and the reality of losing sometimes, to give in, play fair or else, to pick ourselves and each other up and still come back to being friends. Because we know one true thing—we need each other.

However, when we grow up, we get so caught up that sometimes we are the least intimate with those closest to us. We play our roles, live out early stereotypes, try to meet prescribed expectations, go through motions, resist, take sides, but we are not really our true selves interacting with true selves. This is not intimacy, it is only a role and the two should not be confused.

For many of us today ... intimate relationship has become the new wilderness that brings us face-to-face with our gods and demons ...When we approach it in this way, intimacy becomes a path—an unfolding process of personal and spiritual development. (John Welwood, Spiritual Literacy, p. 417)

A new wilderness. The path to intimacy. Now let’s go back for a moment to the sexual implications of the word. Wouldn’t it be lovely if we could teach our children the truths that they are going to have to deal with when they grow up. The truths like people can get emotionally involved from sexual encounters and that unprotected sex can lead to many diseases and unwanted pregnancy: that male-female relationships, any sexual relationship, is serious and full of consequences that cannot be predicted or taken lightly.

The government’s policies of Compassionate Conservatism and fundamentalist churches pour millions of dollars into so-called abstinence programs. Now I am not going to make so bold as to come out against abstinence; I am just going to remind ourselves that the hormones and media hype of adolescence are often stronger than any such idealistic programs. Okay—abstinence is a worthy goal but meanwhile it does not reach most young people and it is not going to work, in fact studies are now showing these programs only make things worse in terms of disease and out of wedlock births.

I once heard an African-American woman social worker at a Planned Parenthood meeting say the best contraceptive is the expectations of a young person for his or her future. Their lifetime goals are the path to abstinence or at least cautious protection. This is the kind of education we need to be providing our youngsters on the brink of what we hope will be a fulfilling adulthood. Let our children have a plan for their future that does not include a child having a child. Preach abstinence if you must, they might buy it, but add a huge dose of prevention and responsibility for our partner’s welfare and the prospect of unplanned parenthood. And educational opportunities.

I am against the neutral attitude of “do anything you want as long as you use birth control and don’t hurt each other.” But if we are really care about the moral development of the next generation in the area of sexuality we need to stress that bringing children into the world is a moral act—one that involves a set of personal and social responsibilities. Sex is not merely recreational or biological—it is an act that can carry with it consequences that bear on the rest of our lives and other persons’ lives and can even include loss of life.

Can we educate people for intimacy?—perhaps by presenting models of more wholesome eroticism and creating more conducive environments in which to grow and nurture our sensuality. We can do our part to alleviate the relational pain and physical disasters that are the result of our individualistic society bent on immediate sensual gratification. Let’s try a little tenderness. That tenderness goes beyond sex education OR the teaching of abstinence; it is present in our touching and our words and in the atmosphere of understanding that is appropriate and relevant to their level of sexual maturing. Okay, sexuality is a compelling biological drive but we can learn and teach how to care and be responsible for each other.

Now that the subject of sex and its consequence for life and death has reared its multifaceted head, let’s look in on what the wider implications of intimacy can do for our lives, and our health. You have probably heard about Dr. Dean Ornish and how he is taking us beyond doctor visits, regular exercise and healthy diet. He recognizes that intimacy is in increasingly short supply these days. In the past, most people spent their entire lives in the same towns or neighborhoods, where other people truly knew them and they knew everyone. He is finding that people consider socializing a luxury after the demands of work—but the doctor says socializing is necessary for survival. Only when we understand that the human need for love and intimacy is as important as eating, sleeping and breathing can we make better choices. Studies show that loving and being loved, and physical contact can affect the body in amazingly powerful ways: Dr. Ornish and his colleagues have discovered and recorded empirically what most of us here have known all along. Love protects the body by calming the heart and lowering blood pressure and reducing the harmful effects of anxiety.

But easy to say, hard for a lot of us to do. You can be intimate only to the degree that you are willing to make yourself emotionally vulnerable to someone else. Many people in our culture have no one they trust enough to let down their emotional defenses and share their feelings. As a result, their walls of loneliness and stress remain barriers. We think we are protecting ourselves by saying all is just fine—but playing it safe is not always safe, it can threaten our survival.

Dr. Ornish gives advice for a healthier heart—a heart that might save your insurance company many thousands of dollars on a multiple by-pass operation. A healthy diet and exercise is important—but just as important to your present health and longevity is reaching out, showing and receiving love, touching others while respecting boundaries. We can actually change our chemistry by being in support groups and practicing techniques that will quiet our minds. Intimacy is healing, touching is intimate. It opens our hearts. Hundreds of studies demonstrate the healing power of touch.

The pictures that arise with intimacy are many: A mother playing with her baby. And old couple, stooped and silent holding gnarled hands on a park bench. A hummingbird nest with two tiny eggs. A piano nocturne by Chopin. A Dutch master’s depiction of a young girl pouring milk out of a ceramic pitcher, caught in a ray of sunshine. A packet of old love letters tied with a pink ribbon. A doctor listening for a baby’s heartbeat, a sharing of tea and blueberry muffins with someone you love.

To me, intimacy requires more than just two people, mother and child, adult romantic partners, it involves also choosing and living within a group of people who have formed some kind of community: Starhawk describes it this way:

Community. Somewhere, there are people to whom we can speak with passion without having the words catch in our throats. Somewhere a circle of hands will open to receive us, eyes will light up as we enter, voices will celebrate with us whenever we come into our own power. Community means strength that joins our strength to do the work that needs to be done. Arms to hold us when we falter. A circle of healing. A circle of friends. Someplace where we can be free.

Intimacy in all its facets is not easy, it doesn’t just fall in our laps without some effort from us. I want to know you and be known by you. That takes time, perhaps courage, it is risky. It means opening our own hearts, and connecting with someone else’s heart. That kind of intimacy can be the beginning of healing and the end of loneliness.

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