She sat in the church parking lot after the youth event, engine off, keys still in her hand. Twenty minutes earlier, a well-meaning leader had passed around a piece of chewed gum and asked who would want it. Nobody raised a hand. That was the whole lesson. She was seventeen, and she drove home believing something about herself that took her a decade to unlearn: that her worth was a resource that could be used up. Now, in her late twenties and dating again after a painful breakup, she still flinches at that memory every time a relationship gets serious.
If you grew up anywhere near a youth group in the last thirty years, some version of that scene may be familiar. Purity was taught as a math problem — subtract experiences, and value goes down. It sounded biblical. It wasn’t. Paul actually addresses the value and purpose of the body directly, in a letter to a church steeped in sexual confusion of its own.
Scripture in Context
Corinth was a port city famous for its temple prostitution and its casual attitude toward sex — “everything is permissible” was practically a local motto among some believers there. Paul writes to correct two extremes: those treating the body as spiritually irrelevant, and by implication, those who might weaponize purity as shame. His answer isn’t a rulebook. It’s an identity statement.
“Or don’t you know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. Therefore glorify God in your body and in your spirit, which are God’s.” (1 Corinthians 6:19-20, WEB)
What Paul Actually Says — and What Got Lost
Notice what Paul does not say. He doesn’t say your body is a used object with declining value. He says it is a temple — a place where God himself dwells, right now, regardless of your history. The word “temple” would have stopped a Corinthian reader cold. Temples were sacred ground, set apart not because they were flawless but because God chose to inhabit them. That’s the whole argument: purity flows from belonging, not the other way around.
Purity culture, as many people experienced it in the 1990s and 2000s, often inverted this. It taught that value was earned through abstinence and lost through failure — visualized with chewed gum, a rose stripped of petals, a piece of tape that wouldn’t stick twice. Those illustrations weren’t in the Bible. They were add-ons, and they did real damage, because they taught people to measure their worth by their sexual history rather than by whose they are. They also tended to fall disproportionately on women, treating men’s choices as inevitable and women’s bodies as the site of moral accounting. That is not Paul’s framework — he addresses the whole church, male and female, with the same charge.
The phrase “bought with a price” matters too. Paul is pointing to the cross, not a purity pledge card. Your value was set the moment Christ considered you worth dying for — not the moment you did or didn’t wait. Purity isn’t a scoreboard you’re perpetually losing points on. It’s a response of gratitude to a value already settled before you made a single choice, good or bad.
This also reframes purity as ongoing, not something you either “have” or “lost” permanently. Every believer, single or married, virgin or not, is called to glorify God with a body that belongs to him today. Past choices don’t disqualify you from that calling; they don’t get the final word on who you are now. Scripture consistently makes room for restoration — for people to walk forward in wholeness rather than live under a permanent label assigned by a lesson at seventeen.
It’s also worth naming plainly that this is not a message only for women, even though purity culture’s illustrations were often aimed at them. Paul addresses “your body” and “your spirit” to the whole Corinthian church, men included. Any teaching that treats a woman’s body as the community’s shared moral property to protect, while treating a man’s choices as understandable and expected, has already drifted from Paul’s actual argument. Both are equally temples. Both are equally bought with a price. Both are equally called to glorify God with their bodies — not as a burden placed disproportionately on one gender, but as a shared, dignified calling.
There is also a positive vision here that purity culture’s shame-based approach tended to obscure. “Glorify God in your body” isn’t primarily a list of things to avoid. It’s an invitation to actively steward your body, your attention, your relationships, and your future intimacy as acts of worship — the same way you might steward your time or your money for God’s glory. That reframing changes the emotional posture of purity entirely, from anxious rule-following toward something closer to gratitude: this body still belongs to someone who loves me, and I get to honor him with it, starting today.
What This Looks Like This Week
Consider someone rebuilding her dating life after a season she’s not proud of. She still catches herself waiting for a boyfriend to eventually find out and see her differently — as damaged, as less than the version of herself she wishes she’d been. This week, instead of narrating her story through the lens of what she’s “used up,” she could practice narrating it through Paul’s lens: this body, this life, is currently a dwelling place for God’s Spirit. That’s not a denial of her past. It’s a refusal to let her past define the present tense of her identity.
Practically, that might mean an honest conversation with a trusted mentor or counselor about which purity messages she’s still carrying that were never actually in the Bible. It might mean choosing new language for herself — not “damaged goods” but “temple,” not “used” but “bought at a price.” Words shape belief, and belief shapes how she walks into her next relationship.
You don’t have to keep carrying an object lesson that was never Paul’s point. God isn’t asking you to prove your worth through a flawless track record. He’s asking you to live like the temple you already are — because of what he did, not what you’ve done. That’s not a lower bar than purity culture set. It’s a truer, sturdier, and far more hope-filled one.
Reflect
- Which purity-culture message from your past (an illustration, a phrase, a sermon) still shapes how you view your own worth today — and is it actually something the Bible teaches, or something added to it?
- Where in your dating life have you been treating your body or your history as a liability to disclose apologetically, rather than as a temple currently indwelt by God's Spirit?
- What would change about how you talk to yourself after a past mistake if you fully believed 1 Corinthians 6:20 — that you were 'bought with a price' before you did anything right or wrong?
A Prayer for Today
Lord, thank you that my worth was settled at the cross, not by my history. I confess that I have carried shame that you never asked me to carry — shame from lessons and comparisons that were never truly yours. Help me see my body and my story the way you see them: as a temple where your Spirit lives right now, not a resource that gets used up. Heal the parts of me that still believe I am less valuable because of my past. Give me the courage to walk into future relationships free from that shame, glorifying you with my whole self — spirit and body — because I belong to you, and you have already called that good. Amen.
Your Action Step
This week, write down one purity-culture message you were taught that isn't actually in Scripture, then write 1 Corinthians 6:19-20 next to it and read both out loud.
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