OK, you knew the sex life of the Moonies had to be a bit eccentric, what with the mass arranged marriages in the stadiums and all. But I had no idea just how eccentric until I read this article from Nerve (link via Spanking Blog, because — I am not making this up — there’s a wedding spanking ritual). There’s an actual handbook for consummating the marriage (years after the wedding) and it’s got some very odd elements:

Two years after our wedding, I gathered our checklist of items for the Three Day Ceremony, the consummation of our marriage:

1) Two Holy Handkerchiefs. These were to wash our bodies prior to intimacy, then to collect the fluids produced by our final union in the ceremony; they were to be kept “eternally.” [Ewww! -ed.]

…

I pulled the pamphlet of instructions out of my bag. We showered separately, never having seen each other naked. After he emerged, I took my turn in the steamy bathroom, then put on my new underwear. Our undergarments had to be new for each day of the ceremony; black satin felt luxurious after the baggy cotton underpants I’d been slouching around in for years. I dressed in my ivory wedding gown, and over that my white holy robe. The sash of my robe was decorated with pink beads, Gabriel’s trim was green.

…

In the first part of the ceremony, the woman had to be on top, symbolizing the restoration of Eve’s act of love with Lucifer. After two minutes of foreplay, I guided him inside me. Instantly, I felt the emotional disconnect. It was the first time I had felt a man inside me for four years, and it felt good, but there was no holy passion, no divine ecstasy. I moved on top of him, concentrated on bringing him to an orgasm, then removed myself and lay next to him. Our ritualistic act of love was over in ten minutes. We wiped the fluids onto our Holy Handkerchiefs.

The official handbook said, “Go to sleep in peace. Sleep in pajamas and nightgown. Do not have a physical relationship outside of the content of the ceremony.” We lay on our backs next to each other, not touching, nor speaking.

Of course when reading accounts like this, it’s good to remember that there’s a long journalistic tradition of writing very loosely about the sexual practices of unpopular or unusual religions. (The technical term for this style of journalism is “making shit up”.) I’m not saying this account isn’t 100% accurate; I’m just saying that, like anything else you read on the internet, some healthy skepticism couldn’t hurt.

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