One Friday night my wife and I were in the mood for a romantic comedy, so we went to see a highly touted movie with a cast of classy British actors. About 45 minutes later, we scooped up our coats and walked out of the theater. This was no Jane Austen romance! It wasn't merely the offensive language or the flashes of nudity that drove us out. It was the trashing of love, the trivializing of sex, and the trifling with people's deep longings. We just couldn't take any more of it.

I was angry, and not only because we'd blown $18 and a night out. I was angry that the film purported to be about love, when in fact it was about flirtation, lust, adultery, and betrayal. It bothered me that people all over the country were sitting in theaters subliminally surrendering to this counterfeit notion.

That night I realized we need more sex in the pulpit.

I channeled my anger into a sermon series and was quickly reminded why so few pastors preach on sex. It's a homiletical minefield. ...