There’s also the question of what, exactly, is meant by the word “courtship.”
For example, a lot of Scott Ross’ ideas make sense, but he doesn’t seem to have a firm grasp on what practical impact they have. (I’d disagree vehemently with his idea that his adult, self-supporting daughter should need his permission to date anyone, but that’s a rant for another time.) He sensibly suggests making a list of real deal-breakers, but keeping it short–a very good idea–but then never gets around to saying what, in his mind, is acceptable courtship behavior.
In a lot of circles, the word “courtship” has the connotation of the couple never spending any time alone without a parent or sibling present prior to the marriage. This is a bad idea for all sorts of obvious reasons, but in any case, Ross doesn’t seem to subscribe to it.
It also doesn’t help that in many of those circles, once you’ve been “courted” by two or three men, you’re expected to have found Mr. Right. If you didn’t, the social implications are that there’s something wrong, and probably sinful, with you. Never mind that you didn’t really have a chance to get to know Mr. Right because your courtships consisted of hanging out with the whole family at all times, and neither of you were especially comfortable discussing future dreams and ideas in front of your ten-year-old brother; having that many close relationships with men (even though it can pretty much be demonstrated that nothing happened beyond a handshake, given the number of witnesses involved) makes you “damaged goods.”
This all kind of ties into the whole Chastity Rose speech. For anyone else not unfortunate enough to be familiar with it, here’s how it goes. It’s pretty much SOP in conservative church youth groups.
The speaker hands one of the kids a rose, tells the kid to look at it, play with it if he or she wants, then pass it on to the next kid, and so on. At the end of being handled by 40+ teens, the rose is understandably rumpled. He then holds up another, perfect rose in comparison with the original one, and asks the boys which they’d prefer. They, of course, say they like the nicer-looking one. He then turns to the girls, and tells them that if they “let” the boys do anything, they’ll be the equivalent of the damaged rose that no one wants, but if they don’t, then they’ll be like the nice, clean, whole one. Never mind the implication that the boys aren’t equally at fault, or that they wouldn’t be damaged by today’s culture of serial monogamy, either. Sigh.
Not the sort of message I want my kids to be given, thankyouverymuch.
Now, the idea of dating with a purpose makes sense, and if that’s what’s meant by courtship, I’d agree. “I’d like to meet Mr./Ms. Right, so I’m going to go to the diocesan young adult events and keep an eye out. Worst case scenario, I have fun and make some new friends; best case scenario, that sounds like a good way to meet someone serious about their faith.” You meet someone, chat for a bit, are interested, and propose catching that interesting new movie and having dinner next week. This should neither mean “he’s going to propose by Christmas!” nor “he just wants to sleep with me.” It means you’re interested in getting to know one another better, period.
The problem that can be encountered with the courtship model is that asking someone on a date translates to “he’ll propose by Christmas” because dating means things are serious…when really, it should mean no such thing. Leaving aside anything else, it places a terrible strain on the couple to be expected to know after a dinner or two if this is the person they want to spend their life with.
DH and I met online. While we never talked exclusivity per se, we considered each other boyfriend/girlfriend a few months later, and were engaged nine months in. I’d been talking to a couple of other guys online, but after a few weeks of dating DH I gently let them know that things had gotten a bit more serious with someone, and I needed to be able to focus on that relationship for a while. (I was in grad school and working three jobs at the time, so even dating one person was kind of pushing the limit on what I could manage.) We were both looking to get married. We did hang out at restaurants, friends’ places, and so on, but we also spent time at one another’s apartments, with some common-sense rules in place. (Read: no physical contact unless we’re in public, or at least where anyone might walk past.) It’s not kind or fair to the waitress to sit at a restaurant for six hours on a weekend evening, and you really aren’t going to get to know each other if you’re only spending a couple of hours together every other weekend. (We were long-distance.) We did make sure to have specific things to do at the apartments, usually a movie or show to watch, but as I said–opposite ends of the couch, or different chairs. Things don’t “just happen”; we were adults, we had self-control, and we never had more than a beer or so over dinner, so alcohol wasn’t involved.
I am a rather firm believer that if two people can’t manage to go out to dinner without having sex right then and there in the restaurant, they aren’t mature enough to be getting married anyway.
