When “Do Not Commit Adultery” Gets Way More Complicated Than Expected
This week’s Sex & Scripture Saturday finally took us out of Genesis (!!!) and into the book of Exodus. I honestly thought stepping into a new book would feel refreshing — a palate cleanser after all the chaos of Genesis.
And then Exodus 20 hit me with the Ten Commandments.
Including one very tiny, very famous line:
“You shall not commit adultery.”
(Exodus 20:14)
Simple, right?
Except, as usual, nothing in Scripture is ever actually simple.
Before I even got to the adultery verse, I ended up giving myself (and anyone watching) a full Bible timeline recap — from Joseph being sold into slavery, to his family settling in Egypt, to the Israelites becoming enslaved, to baby Moses in a basket, to the plagues, to the Red Sea, to wandering in the wilderness.
And suddenly, here we are at Mt. Sinai, with God laying out what it means to live as His people.
What surprised me most
The commandment on adultery is one sentence.
Just one.
But the way we’ve interpreted it…
the way we’ve weaponized it…
the way we’ve expanded it…
that’s a whole other story.
As I sat with it, here’s what came up:
1. Literal adultery is one thing. Emotional, mental, spiritual “adultery” is another.
In ancient Hebrew culture, adultery wasn’t “breaking a vow between two people.”
It was violating another man’s household and property.
That alone already complicates the conversation.
Then Jesus comes along and raises the bar entirely:
If you look at someone with lust?
You’ve already crossed the line.
Which led me down this whole rabbit hole about how our brains process fantasy as if it’s real — and how intention affects us even if we never act on something physically.
It’s… a lot.
2. The metaphor of adultery in Scripture is deeper than I realized
Prophets used “adultery” as a metaphor for idolatry — breaking covenant with God, giving our loyalty to something else.
And suddenly this tiny commandment is not just about marriage.
It’s about faithfulness, alignment, covenant, trust, and attachment — human and divine.
3. And then there was THAT verse about nakedness at the altar…
Exodus 20 ends with a strange little instruction:
“Do not go up to my altar on steps, lest your nakedness be exposed.”
(v. 26)
Honestly? I had no idea what that meant.
So I looked it up.
Turns out:
Priests wore long robes with no underwear.
Steps could expose their bodies while leading worship.
Pagan temples used sexual acts as part of worship.
God intentionally makes Israel’s worship non-sexualized.
I don’t know why, but that delighted me — that my random hunch about pagan sex rituals was actually right.
Where this left me
Some verses invite clarity.
Some invite questions.
Some invite both.
This week felt like a reminder that God cares about our bodies, our intimacy, our loyalty, our imagination, our choices — not because He’s obsessed with rules, but because covenant (with God or with people) is sacred.
If you want to watch the full live session — including my Exodus recap, my thoughts on laws, lust, metaphors, naked priests, and why Jesus basically makes righteousness impossible without Him — here’s the video:
👉 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6jt7O_XpS-Y