Valentines Day 2019: Reverance for Christ, Submission to Each Other, and the Way of True Romance, Part 2

BRIDE, by Craig Gallaway, graphite on paper, copyright 1999. A drawing of Deborah, my dearest friend and beloved wife, who joined her journey with mine on December 22, 1976, and who still travels this mysterious road of romance and marriage with me in the light provided by our King. The song below, “Deborah’s Song,” was written in 1994. It echoes the counsel of our trusted friend and mentor, Jim Houston, “Never lose touch with the sense of mystery in each other.”

In a post for Valentine’s Day 2018, one year ago, I looked at the meaning of Christian marriage and romance in the light of Charles Williams’s “theology of romantic love,” and the Apostle Paul’s teaching (Eph. 5:21) that husbands and wives should “submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.” As I brought that post to a conclusion, I was aware that I hadn’t said much about what such an approach to romance through “mutual submission” might look like in the context of daily married life: living, working, experiencing emotional ups and downs, making decisions, and sexual intimacy.

What I want to do in this post is to look at several very practical parts of marriage that, it seems to me, can be grounded clearly in Jesus’ teaching and way of life with his first disciples. I hope to suggest how these practices might be worked out in the daily round and the ongoing journey of Christian marriage, something like a set of goals and exercises, fleshing out part of what it might mean to submit to one another out of reverence for Christ. I don’t consider myself an expert in these practices (just ask Deb); but the topic has fascinated me for many years as an on-the-job-learner-in-progress. With that in mind, and speaking therefore as “one without authority,” I want to look at three practices to begin with: 1. shared work, 2. shared inner life, 3. shared decisions, and then I will look again at the dimension of sexual love (eros) as this is woven into and enriched by the other practices. In this way, I think I can see how the wider dimensions of shared life may indeed become ways of submitting to each other out of reverence for Christ and, at the same time, ways of discovering the deeper and richer meanings of romantic love.

Shared Work:  One of Jesus’ most surprising actions with his first disciples occurred when he took a towel and a bowl of water and began to wash their feet (John 13). He was their Master and teacher, and yet he stepped into one of the dirtiest jobs in the household. And then he made clear his goal for them as well. “If I your Master and Lord have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet.” Jesus was clearly challenging the status and pecking order that the disciples were used to. The reversal of roles was so unexpected, in fact, that Peter tried in two different ways to keep the old order in place, first by refusing to let Jesus wash his feet, and then by suggesting a special ritual to make the occasion more dignified for all concerned, especially for Peter. Jesus insisted that his action was not about ego or status at all. It was about performing a basic service that was needed. And he called his disciples to follow him in this kind of servant ministry, this shared work.

How might this principle of shared work be an exercise for husbands and wives in what it means to submit to one another out of reverence for Christ? Like the first disciples, we live in a culture today where different jobs, roles, and professions are accorded very different levels of status. Certain professions are automatically given a lot of respect; others, not so much. This can lead to envy and confusion about who is important and why, even (perhaps especially?) in marriage. And yet, as Christians, our identity is centered in Christ, not in any profession or job. And so we must fight the real spiritual battle to resist the idolatry of job, career, or profession. From Jesus’ point of view, the essential thing in any job or profession is the possibility of serving a real human need. “All good work is service,” said the Bruderhof community. In this light, whether both spouses work, or one stays at home to care for children or manage the household, there can finally be no difference of status for those who are in Christ. Division of labor can be negotiated in many different ways between caring spouses; but when the toilets need scrubbing, or the house needs cleaning, there can never be a question of a role that is beneath “me.” Sharing work in this way, moreover, can be a source of rich and deep bonding as well; and a way to submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.

Of course, working together is not always easy. Deb and I do not always agree about what is the best way to do a job. So arguments arise, and we may find ourselves in conflict. In this case it might seem better just to avoid working together! But Jesus never said that serving would come easily. And the process of working through conflicts is also an important goal for those who want to go deeper and further in romantic love (see below “shared decisions”). So, washing each other’s feet by sharing the work load remains a significant way to open our hearts both to Christ and to each other.

Shared Inner Life:  Have you ever wondered how the writers of the gospels knew so much about Jesus’ personal struggles and temptations? Jesus’ forty days in the wilderness at the beginning of his ministry took place when he was alone, except for wild animals and the tempter (Mark 1:12; Matt. 4:1). And yet we know very clearly the nature of his three temptations (appetite, ego, power) and how he responded in each case. Can there be any doubt that Jesus confided these details to his disciples because he wanted them to know that he faced the same kinds of trials and temptations that they did? In a similar vein, the author of Hebrews reminds his readers that Jesus “is not unable to sympathize with our weakness, because he has been tempted in every way as we are, yet without sin” (Heb. 4:15). And likewise the Apostle Paul calls us to “bear one another’s burdens and so fulfill the law of Christ” (Gal. 6:2). All of this is grounded again in Jesus’ own practice when, just before his arrest, at a time of deepest struggle, he asked Peter and the other disciples to “stay here and watch with me,” though they failed to stay awake (Matt. 26:38). Our life together in the community of faith is to be one of shared inner life, not one of Stoic repression or hidden emotional struggle. “Weep with those who weep, and rejoice with those who rejoice” (Rom. 12:15), says Paul.

And how might this shared inner life work out as an exercise in “submitting to each other out of reverence for Christ”? As with sharing work, there are no doubt many different ways that different couples can work out what seems right or best for them. Some of us may need more of this kind of sharing, perhaps, some less. I do not presume to know a one-size-fits-all prescription. But Deborah and I can witness out of our own experience to the immense importance of learning to share our grief and our hope in significant detail on an almost daily basis when we lost our twenty-year-old son in an accident. I wonder if our marriage could have survived that time if we had not felt free in Christ to let the Spirit “groan within us with groans too deep for words” (Rom. 8:26), and yet also to affirm in the teeth of our pain that “nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ,” not even death (8:39). Some people may try to bottle up such strong emotions; but one of our mentors at the time reminded us that “pain brought before God with his people is redemptive and healing; while trying to hold it inside is deadly” (cf. 2 Cor. 7:10). And this principle surely applies as well to the whole range of emotional life, including joy, frustration, humor, fun, fear and courage. To share our inner emotional lives with each other sends the bonds of relationship and romance ever deeper, and it is clearly a way of submitting to each other out of reverence for Christ.

Does this mean, then, that we always share everything that pops into our heads, or that there is no shut-off valve between mind and tongue? I don’t think so. As Jesus went about the villages and countryside with his disciples, he regularly went off alone to an “empty place” to pray. Deb and I spend a good deal of time every day regrouping in our own inner lives by means of prayer and study. And I know for myself, I sometimes have to think really hard about how to share some thoughts and feelings with her, especially after a time of conflict or disagreement. I’m sure Deb does this as well. And yet, it remains very important that we have access to each other’s inner life, including a sense of each other’s deepest joys, sorrows, humor, doubts, and struggle. To ignore or avoid this would leave our reverence for Christ and our submission to each other on rather flat and uninspiring ground. Bad, both for faith and for romance.

Shared Decisions: When Jesus was preparing to leave this world, he talked with his disciples about what it would mean for them that he would no longer be present with them in the flesh. He promised them that it was a good thing that he was leaving, because he would send his Spirit to be their guide and friend, and by this means he would still be with them wherever they went and whatever they encountered (John 14-17). In his epistle to the Philippians, Paul assumes this kind of Spirit-led way of life when he describes our life “in Christ,” and calls us to “work out our salvation with fear and trembling, because it is God who is at work within us” (Phil. 2:12). This way of life together in the Spirit leads finally to the kind of decision-making process that we find reflected in Acts 15:28, where the apostles and elders, and the whole church, made an important decision about basic doctrines and ethics, and then explained their process with the phrase, “It seemed right to the Holy Spirit and to us not to burden you with anything more.” Clearly Jesus intended his followers to make important decisions together under the guidance of his Spirit, to reach consensus with each other, and to be confident in doing so.

But what does this have to do with decision-making in marriage? When Deb and I were first engaged, we sought marriage counseling from a respected mentor. Based on his interviews with us, he told us that one thing we clearly needed was to learn how to argue well. We explained to him that we didn’t really have that problem. We just didn’t argue. He said that we had better start learning, and soon. So we left and had our first argument about how to argue. To be honest, this has been one of the most difficult challenges for Deb and me throughout our marriage. How can we argue, or “fight the good fight,” without one of us, or both, trying to dominate or control the other, while the other merely shrinks back and hides their thoughts and feelings with a growing sense of hurt and disrespect? And how can we do this, whether the decision is a small one, like how to trim the roses, or a large one, like how to respond to a teenager’s rebellion? How can we address such issues out of reverence for Christ, and with submission to each other?

We have come to believe that Jesus’ model for the early church (shared decision- making in the Spirit) has significant parallels with what is known as “shared decision- making” in the literature of contemporary marriage counseling (see for example, Susan Heitler, The Power of Two). Shared decision-making is essentially a matter of both partners stating clearly for each other (thus, “submitting”) what each one really wants (with regard to the issue at hand), and then crafting a solution together that refuses to cancel or ignore any reasonable priority of either person. It is amazing how arguments can become planning sessions when partners keep the focus on the task at hand and possible solutions, rather than blowing things up with charges of bad motives, hurt feelings, and past history; only to end up with anger and more hurt feelings. The rules of good communication can help a lot at this point. For example, state what you want, and how the conflict is making you feel, rather than trying to state what is wrong with your spouse or where they have gone wrong. Such strategies place the focus on goals, empathy, and solutions; rather than blame and defenses.

Working together in this way, under the Spirit’s guidance, is not easy. It requires submitting our thoughts and desires to each other, rather than trying to dominate, conceal, or manipulate. And it’s not easy for some of us simply to say what “I” want, or for others simply to listen and look for a shared plan. Yet this model resonates with the kind of process that we find reflected in Jesus’ promise of how his Spirit would guide the early church into the truth. And it is clearly a way to build a sense of closeness and trust, rather than the barriers and fissures that would otherwise arise.

Romance and the Sharing of Eros: Perhaps it is obvious how these ways of sharing work, inner-life, and decisions, can serve to keep the channels of communication, as well as our hearts and imaginations, open, both to Christ and to each other. Such openness is good in most relationships, including those that are not romantic or sexual; and the purpose of sharing in these ways in marriage is not simply to pave the way for sexual intimacy. At the same time, does it really need to be said, that the sense of closeness and support that comes from sharing work and inner life and successful decisions can be a very real and powerful inspiration for a deeper sense of closeness, romance, and sexual intimacy in marriage? Or, to put it the other way around, the desire of husband and wife to be close to each other sexually can only be enhanced by sharing and submitting to each other in these other ways as well. All of this suggests, for those who submit to each other out of reverence for Christ, that the best and truest kind of romance is a larger reality than sex per se. Sexual intimacy may be part of romance, but romance has a broader and richer framework. Perhaps there is a clue here as to why Paul urges us to pattern our marriages on the greater and higher reality of Christ and his church.

It is easy to miss what Paul was really saying at this point. God’s love for the whole world, focused in Christ’s sacrificial love for his church, is the greater reality that creates the full and highest meaning of our human marriages and sexuality. Our marriages are not the greater reality; they are a way for us to grow up into the greater reality. In Ephesians 5, Paul points to Christ’s sacrificial love for his people, the church, and then he says, “For this reason, a man shall leave his mother and father, and a woman shall leave her home, and the two shall become one flesh.” For this reason: that is, the Creator has given us marriage as a reflection of his own love for the world, so that we might discover over time, and live into, what is really going on in God’s care and purpose for the world. We are part of a mystery that is illuminated by the metaphorical comparison with Christ’s joyful, sacrificial love; God and His people in the new creation are the reality that illumines us, bringing new joy and discovery.

If Christ’s love is truly the compass bearing, the north star for the best and highest experience of romance, marriage, and, yes, sexual intimacy, is it any wonder then that our experience of these things is deeply fractured and distorted today by our culture’s constant focus on eros as an end in itself? Movies, TV shows, books, advertising, pop psychology, and other media continually focus on sex and sex appeal as an end in itself, an “idol” around which we are invited to organize our lives, our identities, and our imaginations, often without even being aware of the powers at work. And yet, one of the ironies of the modern and postmodern (just like the ancient) obsession with eros is the awful emptiness of sex when the other dimensions of friendship, family, and sacrificial service are absent. What if, like many other good things in life, eros makes an excellent servant, but a terrible master? What if, as with job and career, we really aren’t meant to find our personal identity in our sexual desires, drives, and inclinations? In this light, the ancient biblical ethic for marriage and sexuality, far from interfering with the best and highest values of romance and sexuality, is actually the path to sanity, health, deep commitment, and romantic love. Happy Valentine’s Day, in the name of Christ!