John 8:7, The Bible — “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.”

I am just another one of the many. It’s not for me to judge the actions, moral or immoral, of others. The most I can wish for is to be granted some speck, some infinitesimal slice of wisdom that might, at the very least, help someone else outside of me see that life, despite its darkness — darkness caused by all of us, intentionally or unintentionally — is not an accident of the cosmos. There is a purpose. And there is love and beauty, even in suffering, because suffering leads to grace.

Without a doubt it is this mentality that causes me to recoil when, in the days preceding Valentine’s Day, the sexual innuendos start shooting out of mouths in rapid succession and it begins (in no metaphorical sense) to rain condoms.

I know that we are meant to love one another in more ways than this. How can sex be enough to convince you of someone’s love if love is often a long-term sacrifice and sex a self-gratifying, fleeting experience? We live in a sexual culture where a determination to depersonalize sex and bring it out in the open exists, to make it so casual an event that college students can set up booths and pass out roses constructed of condoms. They encourage one another, go have sex, but be “safe” about it. We at the University of Wisconsin have an actual student organization for this very purpose. I don’t see the joy in this — because joy is in life and love.

It’s very easy to forget amidst the laughing, the joking, the playful “condoms are useful and there’s nothing else to it” arguments of this last Valentine’s Day, “safe” sex or not, new life and love and purpose were created between two unsuspecting college students. Indubitably, somewhere on campus, what was supposed to be a night of “casual sex” turned into a very serious matter.

Genesis 9:7, The Bible — “Be fruitful and multiply.”

Babies — the most fragile and innocent of humans — come from sex, and to cheapen the process by which they come into being by saying it can be a “casual affair” is to cheapen the babies themselves. It’s the same as getting a degree at a university — go to an Ivy League school, the degree will mean more. But go to an infamously low-ranking college, and your degree will mean less.

This past week, I walked outside my room and saw my neighbors’ doors pasted with condoms. I walked to the cafeteria and, Valentine’s Day or not, have been flagged down by hands full of glow-in-the-dark condoms or the infamous “rose condoms.”

I don’t want a rose made out of condoms. We’re better than this. Men and women alike, we deserve better. In the ways of love, condoms mean absolutely nothing.

And for those of you who may have received a surprise this Valentine’s Day in the form of a child, consider contacting the people whose business is love and life. Nothing could be braver or a greater show of love than to bring into this world that love, that life, that purpose that you created, aware that despite its darkness — darkness caused by all of us, intentionally or unintentionally — life is not an accident of the cosmos. There is a purpose to our existence, each existence, and granting the right to face its challenges is the greatest form of love of all.

I encourage everyone to visit the Madison Women’s Health center’s site to learn more, so that even if you’re years away from starting a family, you can begin to see another culture — not one of sex but of love.

Theresa Cooley ([email protected]) is a sophomore majoring in English.