From Orgasm to Eternity: The Strange Journey of the Word ‘Come’
Welcome back, my faithful Compadres!
In my previous blog, I delved into how God uses our human frailties to perpetuate His divine agenda. I postulated that God is not afraid of our so-called mistakes, regardless of how awful they might seem; he can still turn them around for our good.
In this blog, I want to explore the theological significance of the word “come”. Few words in human language carry as much emotional, spiritual, and even erotic weight as the word “come.” From bedrooms to prayer rooms, from ancient Scriptures to modern slang, this single syllable has travelled across contexts—sometimes as a summons, sometimes as a promise, and sometimes as an expression of sexual climax. But how did one word become so profoundly layered? Read on as I shed light on this.
Few words in human language carry as much emotional, spiritual, and even erotic weight as the word “come.” From bedrooms to prayer rooms, from ancient Scriptures to modern slang, this single syllable has travelled across contexts—sometimes as a summons, sometimes as a promise, and sometimes as an expression of sexual climax. But how did one word become so profoundly layered?
Why is come used to describe sexual orgasm, when its literal definition is about movement, invitation, arrival, or return Whether in the vocabulary of atheists, agnostics, naturalists, pantheists, or theists, the same word is used to describe the peak of human sexual experience.
And yet, long before it entered the realm of erotic expression, come carried deep theological, philosophical, and ontological significance. Travel with me on this adventure to explore the remarkable world.
The Paradox of Language: Sacred and Profane
The appropriation of “come” as a colloquial term for sexual climax represents one of the most curious linguistic phenomena in modern English. Why this particular word? Among thousands of possibilities, what led generations of speakers—atheist and theist alike—to select a term whose primary meaning involves approach, arrival, and movement toward something?
The answer may lie deeper than mere coincidence. Sexual orgasm, in its intensity, represents a moment of transcendence, a brief escape from the ordinary boundaries of self [1]. It is, in purely physiological terms, a “coming” to a peak, an arrival at a destination. Yet the universal adoption of this terminology across belief systems and cultures suggests something more profound: an intuitive recognition that the word captures not just physical release, but a fundamental human yearning for connection and completion.
The Biblical Imperative: Come and See
In Scripture, “come” functions as the primary verb of divine invitation. When Jesus called to Peter on the stormy Sea of Galilee, “Come” (Matthew 14:29), He issued more than a simple command. He extended an invitation into the impossible, a summons to transcend natural limitations through faith. Peter’s subsequent steps on water demonstrated that divine invitation, when accepted, transforms reality itself.
Perhaps the most famous instance appears in Matthew 11:28: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest [2].” Here, Christ’s invitation addresses the universal human condition—exhaustion, burden, the weight of existence. The promise attached to this “come” is rest, that elusive state the soul perpetually seeks. This is not merely physical relaxation but anapausis—the Greek term suggesting complete restoration and peace [3].
The Eschatological Promise: I Am Coming Soon
In Revelation 22:7, 12, and 20, Jesus declares, “Behold, I am coming soon. This promise transforms “come” from invitation into proclamation, from human approach to divine arrival. The entire arc of redemptive history points toward this ultimate Coming—the parousia, Christ’s return that will consummate human history and fulfil every divine promise [4].
The parallelism is striking: humanity is invited to “come” to Christ, even as Christ promises to “come” to humanity. This reciprocal movement—God toward man, man toward God—defines the essential dynamic of Christian theology. We approach because He first approached; we come because He came [5]. Anselm, one of the greatest theologians, once said, Because we could not go to him, he(Christ) came to us.
Ontological Implications: The Nature of Coming
To understand “come” theologically requires examining its ontological foundations. At its core, “coming” presupposes several metaphysical realities:
Separation and Distance: One can only “come” if currently apart. The invitation to come acknowledges our existential distance from the divine, what theologians call the Creator-creature distinction [6].
Directionality and Purpose: Coming is never random; it moves toward a specific destination. Christ’s invitation provides both direction for the lost and purpose for the wandering.
Transformation Through Movement: The act of coming changes the comer. Peter was not the same man after stepping from the boat; we are not unchanged after accepting Christ’s invitation.
Promise of Arrival: “Come” contains an implicit promise that arrival is possible, that the destination is real and attainable. This counters the postmodern despair that holds that all journeys are circular and all destinations illusory [7].
Cultural Context: African Perspectives on Coming
In many African contexts, “I am coming” paradoxically means “I am leaving but will return soon.” This apparent contradiction reveals a profound cultural understanding: true departure is always oriented toward return, and absence is merely the interval between presences [8]. For instance, in the Ghanaian context, if someone tells you, “I am coming, I am coming”, and usually moves their forefinger back and forth, that is to say, “I’m going, but I will be back soon”. This linguistic pattern mirrors the biblical promise in John 14:3: “And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.
In other words, Jesus shook his forefinger back and forth and told his disciples, “I am coming, I am coming”. Christ’s departure was never abandonment but preparation; His going was always oriented toward coming again. The African linguistic tradition, perhaps inadvertently, captures this theological truth with remarkable precision.
Why "Come" for Sexual Climax?
Returning to our original question: why has “come” become the universal euphemism for sexual orgasm? Several possibilities emerge:
The Language of Arrival: Orgasm represents the arrival at a physical and emotional destination, the culmination of an intimate journey.
Transcendent Experience: Both sexual climax and spiritual encounter offer moments of self-transcendence, brief experiences of something beyond ordinary consciousness [9].
The Union Drive: Sexual intimacy seeks union between two separate beings. The Divine invitation seeks union between the Creator and the creature. The language overlaps because the fundamental human drive—for connection, completion, and transcendence—is the same [10].
Subconscious Spiritual Hunger: Perhaps most provocatively, the universal adoption of “come” for sexual climax may reveal an unconscious recognition that human beings are, as Augustine famously wrote, restless until they find rest in God [11]. Even our most carnal expressions betray a spiritual hunger.
Theological Synthesis: The Ultimate Coming
Christian eschatology teaches that history moves toward a great consummation—literally, a “coming together” of heaven and earth, of the divine and the human, of Creator and creation [12]. The Marriage Supper of the Lamb (Revelation 19:6-9) employs explicitly marital and implicitly sexual imagery to describe the ultimate union between Christ and His church.
This is not coincidental. Human sexuality, at its most profound, serves as an earthly metaphor for divine-human communion. The ecstasy of physical union points, however imperfectly, toward the infinitely greater ecstasy of perfect union with God [13]. When humanity corrupts this metaphor by divorcing sex from its sacramental significance, the language itself—”come“—still bears witness to the transcendent reality it was designed to reflect.
Practical Implications: Responding to the Invitation
Understanding “come” in its full theological depth transforms how we respond to Christ’s invitation:
Urgency: When Christ says “come,” the appropriate response is immediate. Peter did not conduct a risk assessment before stepping from the boat; he simply came.
Trust: Coming requires faith that the destination is real and the Inviter trustworthy. We walk toward what we cannot yet fully see.
Transformation: We must come as we are—weary, burdened, broken—but we cannot remain as we are. The journey itself changes us.
Hope: In a world of false promises and disappointing arrivals, Christ’s invitation to “come” carries the weight of divine guarantee. He who calls is faithful to complete what He begins (Philippians 1:6).
Conclusion: The Single Most Important Word
“Come” may indeed be the single most popular word in human history, but its popularity stems from its capacity to express humanity’s deepest longings. Whether whispered in sexual intimacy, shouted across distances, or proclaimed in divine promise, this word captures our fundamental nature as beings created for connection, designed for destination, and destined for completion.
The secular world’s use of “come” for sexual climax may actually confirm its sacred significance, rather than diminish it. Even in our most physical expressions, we testify to spiritual realities. Even our secular language betrays a sacred hunger.
A Divine Invitation
Christ’s invitation still echoes across time: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” The question is not whether the invitation has been extended—it has, universally and repeatedly. The question is whether we will respond, whether we will take that step from the boat into the impossible, whether we will make the journey from distance to presence, from burden to rest, from separation to union.
For in the end, all human “coming“—whether toward another person, back to a familiar place, or to that moment of physical transcendence—is preparation for and a pale reflection of that ultimate Coming when Christ returns, and we arrive, finally and forever, home.
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References
[1] Masters, W. H., & Johnson, V. E. (1966). Human Sexual Response. Boston: Little, Brown and Company.
[2] Matthew 11:28 (NIV)
[3] Bauer, W., Danker, F. W., Arndt, W. F., & Gingrich, F. W. (2000). A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature (3rd ed.). Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
[4] Ridderbos, H. (1975). Paul: An Outline of His Theology. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, pp. 487-504.
[5] 1 John 4:19
[6] Erickson, M. J. (2013). Christian Theology (3rd ed.). Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, pp. 331-355.
[7] Smith, J. K. A. (2006). Who’s Afraid of Postmodernism?: Taking Derrida, Lyotard, and Foucault to Church. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic.
[8] Mbiti, J. S. (1990). African Religions and Philosophy (2nd ed.). Oxford: Heinemann, pp. 19-36.
[9] Newberg, A., & Waldman, M. R. (2009). How God Changes Your Brain. New York: Ballantine Books, pp. 49-67.
[10] Lewis, C. S. (1960). The Four Loves. London: Geoffrey Bles.
[11] Augustine. (1991). Confessions (H. Chadwick, Trans.). Oxford: Oxford University Press, Book I.1. (Original work written c. 397-400 CE)
[12] Wright, N. T. (2008). Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection, and the Mission of the Church. New York: HarperOne, pp. 93-123.
[13] John Paul II. (2006). Man and Woman He Created Them: A Theology of the Body. Boston: Pauline Books & Media.
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