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I’m going to let you in on a little secret about myself:

I’m a Christian Prayer Cupid.

Never heard of that? That’s because I may be the first one in the world.

See, I have about a 75% success rate in bringing couples together through prayer. When I pray fervently for long enough about two people getting together, BOOM! They get married. It almost always works. It worked with my younger sister and brother-in-law, after I prayed myself into a frenzy for about six months (“Please God! Bring them together! It would be perfect!”). Before I knew it he was asking her out on a date. And now they are happily married! I totally accredit myself for their success.

After my friends heard about my Prayer Cupid success with my sister, they began to entreat me to pray for another friend and a boy we all thought would make a perfect match for her. Guess what? Whammo! They’re dating, and well on their way to a life of connubial bliss. My friends are starting to come to me regularly when they have an awesome couple in mind.

It’s a gift.

The reason my success rate is not 100%, though, is because I’m having trouble with my younger sister. (I have three sisters in total, plus one younger brother. Second Sis is married. I’m talking about Middle Sis here). Granted, Middle Sis is only 18, so I still have plenty of time to pray her into the perfect relationship. But I’m still a little disappointed in the impotence of my Prayer Cupid powers on her so far.

The guy that I think would be great for her – he’s awesome. He’s handsome, courteous, artistic, smart, and, importantly, totally Mennonite. If I were a single teenaged Mennonite girl I’m pretty sure I’d be crushing on him myself. But for some reason, Middle Sis just doesn’t seem to be digging my Christian Cupid Prayer action.

The reason she gives me? “We don’t have that much in common. He listens to different music and reads different kinds of books.” (Did you hear that? He reads books, but she’s still hesitant?! Do you see what I’ve got to work with here?)

I can relate, though, because I used to hold similar views on compatibility. When I was young and single, I though my future husband would have to be a man who was into all the same stuff as me. He would have to love punk rock, the Lord of the Rings movies, loud clothes, art museums and Renaissance poetry. I couldn’t possibly date a guy who was into hip-hop, sports, cars, or Vin Diesel. I was going to marry an intellectual or poet, and his favourite band had to be either Blink 182 or Relient K.

According to this narrow idea of compatibility, I would know I had found The One when I had found a guy who was passionate about all the same things I was.

Fortunately, falling in love with Ben made me toss all that out the window.

He’s nothing like the guy I thought I would “fit” with.

In a lot of ways, you could say that my husband and I are not compatible at all. He just doesn’t seem like the guy for me. Here are just a few reasons:

  • In high school, clothing was a big deal to me. I wore chains, spikes, suspenders, purple shoes and lime green pants to school. I had my eyes open for a guy who dressed like me. I was looking for blue hair and goofy retro t-shirts. I thought this was essential to finding the right mate. But this guy I ended up with preferred to wear nondescript grey crew-cut t-shirts he’d been wearing since grade 8. My husband has never thought much about clothes at all. He liked to blend in.  Totally wrong for me.
  • He hated school. He worked hard to graduate high school a semester early so he could get a head start on working, while I went to university for six years after graduation. And I still don’t work full time. I would probably still be in school if I wasn’t anxious to start a family. Obviously, we have different perspectives on education.
  • Ben lives for cars. He speaks of the automotive industry as his “destiny.” The skill that Ben most prides himself on, and criticizes others the most for lacking, is driving. Me? I detest cars. I think that the world is a worse place for their existence. And my only goal in driving is to get from point A to point B without killing anyone. Ben and I cannot get into a car together without at one point wishing we could shoulder the other out the window.
  • I devoted six years of my life to studying English literature of the pre-industrialized era, focusing on Renaissance and medieval religious prose. The only book my husband has read that was written before 1986 is the Bible. How am I supposed to carry on a conversation with a guy who hasn’t read Donne or Spenser or Julian of Norwich? Tell me, how? (Answer: there are lots of other things to talk about).
  • Most shocking of all: HE’S NEVER READ C. S. LEWIS. The horrible truth only collapsed upon me last year, after we’d been married for over three years. We were in Oxford, England, in the midst of what I’d dubbed a “Lewis pilgrimage” (taking a day to visit Lewis’ college, home, church and grave) when I turned to Ben and asked, “Which of Lewis’s books have you read, again?” I thought I had just forgotten. His answer: “Actually . . . none.” NOT EVEN THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA? Who was this man? I admit, right then and there, I paused to question whether I had married the right man. How could I be eternally united to a man who had not engaged the writings of the most important person in my literary universe? What had I done? How had I overlooked this all-important factor?

If you look at it this way, my husband and I shouldn’t be compatible. We have vastly different interests. I’m an opinionated thinker who ironically finds it an intellectual challenge figuring out how the get the grocery bags inside from the car in less than four trips. He’s a problem-solving handyman who can build and install an entire kitchen right, after changing the oil in both the cars and re-wiring the doorbell, but who falls asleep after two pages of The Screwtape Letters.

But we work.

The thing is, there’s no easy way to tell with whom you will be compatible. I’m not saying there’s no such thing as compatibility, only that it’s not as predictable as you might think. I never could have foreseen being “into” Ben Quiring – quiet, practical, low-key, non-poetry-reading Ben Quiring. But inexplicably, I am.

I do think that there are a couple of things that you have to share with your spouse. These include:

  • Similar religious convictions – if you disagree on the ultimate meaning and purpose of life, you are going to have trouble making major life decisions together.  Like whether your baby should be baptized or whether you should use birth control. Of course, if you hold to different religions but both very loosely, you can probably get along. But a passionate evangelical cannot easily build a life with a staunch atheist, I don’t think.
  • Shared values regarding the big things in life, like money, family, and marriage. If one of you strives for financial security but the other wants to be a missionary, you might have problems. If one of you believes divorce is acceptable but the other does not, you’re asking for heartache. So look out for these things when you’re looking for a mate.

There are probably other essential keys to compatibility  – can you think of any?

So, Middle Sis, what I’m trying to say here is, Handsome Mennonite Boy doesn’t necessarily have to have all the same interests as you in order for you to love him.  Give your Big Sister the chance to show off her Mad Prayer Cupid Skillz and give Handsome Mennonite Boy a second thought. You may be surprised to find how deeply in love you can fall with a man who seems to be totally incompatible with you.

I sure was.

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Warning: ranty material ahead.

I love Corey from Simple Marriage. You know that. I keep linking to his site and raving about all the wisdom he offers. I adore his blog and feel he has given me so much.

But recently he wrote a post entitled A Good Marriage is the Enemy of a Great Marriage.

It’s a good post, don’t get me wrong. But in truth, this kind of post is the kind of thing that destroys me.

And I’m seeing it everywhere: “Be excellent.” “Be better than you are.” “Excel at all you do, plus more.” These are the messages I get everywhere I turn, especially from the blogosphere. Everyone is offering to teach me how I can become better. Because apparently, I’m not good enough.

All the other marriage blogs want you to have “stupendous” and “extraordinary” marriages. The people who write them are wonderful, brilliant, ambitious people, and I admire them. And their philosophy probably works wonders for certain people.

But for people like me, it’s unspeakably taxing.

I was born a die-hard perfectionist. My Mom tells me that when I was two I refused to say aloud any word I couldn’t perfectly pronounce. On the second day of kindergarten I cried because I couldn’t read yet. In first grade I cried because I couldn’t draw my favourite cartoon character. Ever since I can remember, I have striven for distinction in all I do, and have demanded nothing less than perfection from myself. In the last nineteen years of my life I have constantly pressured myself to be an exceptional student. In my adult life I have striven to be an extraordinary cook, and impeccable housekeeper, a successful writer, an accomplished artist, and a perfect wife.

It’s killing me, man. I can’t do it. I’ve never been able to do it. I’m not extraordinary.

I can’t even remember what if feels like to not be under constant pressure – pressure to achieve more, to impress more, to produce more. I live in constant despair over not being good enough.

This is a taste of what goes through my mind every single day:

“You are not achieving enough.”

“It’s your fault you’re not successful.”

“You don’t work hard enough. You’ll never succeed at this rate.”

Honestly, the last thing I need to hear is that my marriage isn’t good enough!

I would give anything to hear just one voice say, “Your marriage is good enough. You’re achieving plenty. Sometimes satisfactory is good enough. Kathleen, sometimes you need to be happy with ‘pretty OK.’”

Since no one is telling me this, I guess it’s up to me to step up and tell myself:

You’re doing fine. You don’t need to conquer the world. You don’t need to be extraordinary. Just be happy for once.

God doesn’t care if you never publish a book or get a thousand pageviews on your blog. He doesn’t care if you never become a public figure or tour the country giving important talks. He doesn’t care if you never get your PhD. All he wants is for you to love him.

And your marriage is fine. You’re still together and you care for each other, right? And you’re committed to stay that way, right? Good enough.

Chill.

At this point, I just want to be able to make it through each week without killing myself. I often have to tell myself at the beginning of each morning, “If I make it through this day alive I will have succeeded. I will have accomplished my goal.”

I wish sometimes that other people would affirm this as a legitimate goal.

Sometimes I wonder if we don’t need to be taught to just be content – to settle a little bit. Sometimes I wonder if our culture puts too much pressure on us to be extraordinary, sensational, magnificent  . . . more than human.

But “pretty OK” isn’t good enough for most people. We’re told we can “do anything.” Maybe I’m drifting off topic here, but sometimes I also wonder if it wouldn’t be healthier to be told you aren’t actually capable of absolutely anything: some things are just out of your control. I sometimes think all this “You can do anything” stuff breeds a lot of self-loathing when we don’t succeed.

Since I’m told that I can do anything, I blame myself when I can’t.

I blame myself for being unable to conceive a child.

I blame myself for having acne.

I blame myself for not being a famous writer/blogger.

Since I’m told I should be able to do anything, I understand the above shortcomings as personal failures. But maybe it’s not my fault. Maybe these things really are out of my control.

So last night at 2 a.m., as I rocked myself to sleep, I decided that I am going to do an experiment. For the next week, whenever I start thinking my usual bad thoughts, I am going to repeat these things:

Kathleen, you are good enough.

You do not have to be famous. You can die without ever landing a book deal and you will be just fine.

You can perfectly happy with “OK.”

Even if no one else likes you, God does. And he’s the only one who really matters. He never said you had to be extraordinary.

Oh, and your marriage is pretty downright a-ok. In fact, it’s peachy.

If this new kind of thinking causes me to be less “successful” – to achieve less, to sink even deeper into obscurity – that’s probably OK. I can’t possibly be any unhappier than I am right now, so you can bet that if I fall off the radar I am probably better off in my new universe of “pretty OK.”

I’ll let you know in a week what I discover.  Maybe.

And if it works, I’m going to introduce a new focus on achieving “the pretty OK in marriage.”

Does anyone else ever feel like this, too, or am I alone in this?

If you’ve been reading my blog or engaging in real-life conversation with me in the last couple of months, you know that I’ve been reading, thinking, writing, and even starting to practice Natural Family Planning (NFP). You know that I came across the idea when I came across Engaged Marriage, and after having Dustin tell me more about it, I began writing about it myself.

If you didn’t know that, well, now you do. (And if you don’t know what NFP is, I recommend clicking on the link above where Dustin explains it to me).

I have been learning SO MUCH about the subject, thanks largely to the NFP-loving community who has shared all kinds of wisdom with me in the comments to my posts. I also recently purchased Taking Charge of Your Fertility by Toni Weschler and almost had an explosion in my brain from all the learning.

Just a few short months ago, I was a complete dummy on the subject, and now I have become slightly less dumb!

A complication began to arise, however, because Weschler calls it Fertility Awareness Method (FAM), whereas Dustin and all the other cool Catholics I talked to call it Natural Family Planning (NFP). I started using both terms interchangeably, particularly in this post, and it started to get confusing.

They are not quite the same thing although they share the same basic principles.

So I’m going to do you a favour. I’m going to outline the (very simple) differences between FAM and NFP (for those of you who don’t already know), and tell you which term I’m planning to settle on for good, and explain why I’m settling on it.

Here goes.

Similarities: Both NFP and FAM are examples of sympto-thermo methods of birth control. This means that both are methods of controlling your fertility through awareness of the female reproductive cycle. They both rely on observing cervical fluid and taking your basal body temperature, and tracking both of them on a chart, to help you determine when to have sex (depending on what you’re aiming for). Both can be used either to achieve or avoid pregnancy.

Difference: FAM allows the option of using a barrier (i.e. a condom) during the fertile phase to prevent pregnancy, whereas those who practice NFP choose to abstain during fertile periods if they don’t want to get pregnant.

I guess this means there is a slight difference in the viewpoints underpinning the two methods: NFP-users usually believe that all forms of contraception are morally wrong, whereas FAM-users do not. FAM-users thus permit their occasional use.

But FAM-users agree with NFP-users that contraception is problematic for a variety of reasons, including its negative effects on health, the environment, and sexual enjoyment, not to mention its political implications, and should at least be minimized if not completely rejected.

I’m currently on the fence about whether or not I think all contraception use is morally wrong. Brian Killian’s remarkable blog is having a strong influence on my perspective, and I encourage you to check it out.

Nevertheless, for the purposes of this blog, I have decided to stick with the term “Fertility Awareness Method” when discussing the subject.

Here’s why:

  • I like the emphasis on “awareness.” This term highlights the fact that all it takes to control your reproduction is an attentiveness to what’s going on in your body. You just need to open your eyes to the natural processes already happening in your body and you can begin to take control.

One of the problems I have with contraceptives is that they rob us of this power by encouraging us to be ignorant. Contraception disempowers us. Fertility awareness empowers us. Yay for awareness.

  • I like that FAM does not have religious connections. NFP is commonly associated with religious people. This is unfair but true. Many of FAM’s proponents, on the other hand, are completely secular (including Toni Weschler, as far as I can see).

Now, as you all know, I am a deeply spiritual person. I do not try to hide my religiosity. But FAM can benefit everyone, not just religious people, and I don’t want to ostracize non-religious people. By using a non-religious term, I hope to emphasize what we have in common (a concern for the wellbeing of human beings and the planet) and a de-emphasize what we do not share (a belief in God). If we are open-minded I think we can all agree that there are benefits to FAM.

  • I like that FAM provides more options, and can include NFP. FAM only teaches that you can use barriers during fertile phases if you want to; you don’t have to. Weschler actually discourages it because it’s less reliable. So you can use plain ol’ abstinence during these periods if you prefer. It’s up to you.
  • I’d rather see people use occasional contraceptives, just during fertile phases, than reject FAM altogether in favour of the Pill. I understand that for some people, the 10-or-so-day period of abstinence each month may seem like too much of a stretch. I wouldn’t want someone to reject FAM out-of-hand just because of this. I would rather see couples choose FAM and use the occasional condom than completely reject the whole shebang. Maybe once they try FAM this way for a while and grow to appreciate it, they will more willingly consider the all-natural method.

So there you have it. From now on, I’m going with “Fertility Awareness Method.” I’ve even added it to the Category title “Sex and Fertility Awareness” (in the column on the right). But I am still unspeakably grateful to the NFP community for introducing me to such a wonderful system for controlling my fertility, and wholeheartedly support NFP.

You guys are the bomb!

Which term do you prefer, or which one do you use? Why? Which sounds more appealing to you?

What do you think, experts? Have I dealth with the similarities and differences accurately?

Marriage has all kinds of romantic and spiritual functions. I’ve tried to explore them in my previous four posts. But it also has some practical functions. The practical ones are the ones I’m focusing on today.

Ultimately, if nothing else, I believe God invented marriage to take care of some essential human needs.

Basically, I believe marriage is meant to guarantee that every human being who chooses to be married has a partner to care for his or her needs for the rest of his or her life. It hasn’t always worked that way, to be sure, but I believe that’s what it’s meant to do.

The conjunction of male and female means that the unique gifts/strengths/abilities of each sex are available for meeting the needs of daily life. Marriage between a man and woman increases the number of talents and abilities to draw from more than any other relationship because it combines the strengths of both genders. And I really believe that each sex has unique strengths to offer.

When thinking this through, at one point I actually concluded that marriage is primarily designed for the benefit of women. I have since reconsidered, and decided that it was made for both sexes equally, but I still concede that marriage is pretty important for women.

Marriage was designed in part as insurance that each woman gets properly taken care of.

Here’s how I thought about it. I figured God must have been able to foresee that because he made men physically bigger and stronger, and designed women’s bodies to bear children (thereby making them more vulnerable, especially when pregnant), that men would abuse and exploit women. And he was right: they have, and they do.  Men quickly began to wield all social and economic power, too. So God decided, “Every woman should have a husband to protect and defend her, and her offspring, against other men. Each man must commit himself to only one woman, and not go around impregnating all kinds of women and then abandoning them. He must take care of her, and all the children she produces, for life.”

See, the difficulty with creating women to bear the children is that it makes them intrinsically tied to their offspring, and thus more susceptible to neglect and abuse, unlike men. A man can technically walk away from the relationship the moment he has impregnated a woman and never look back. A woman at least has to bring the child to term, and then feed the baby from her own body. So God said, “No way – you’re sticking around, gentlemen. ONE WOMAN AND THAT’S IT – FOR LIFE. So make it good.”

So he came up with marriage, to serve that practical function.

(Unfortunately, lots of men decided to take lots of wives anyway. And even within monogamous marriages men have abused and exploited women horribly throughout history. But the principle behind it makes sense).

But then I later came to understand that women are just as necessary for men as men are for women. God created women to save men, too. After all, he called Eve Adam’s ezer kenegdo. That’s the Hebrew term used in Genesis 2 – the term that has been lamely translated as “helper” or “helpmeet” in most English translations. According to Hebrew scholar Robert Alter, though, ezer kenegdo is better translated as “sustainer beside him” or something to that effect.[i] In fact, ezer is often used in the Old Testament to describe God when he saves his people. You know that verse, “I lift my eyes to the hills – where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth”?  (Ps. 121:1-2, emphasis added). The word that’s translated as help here is the same word for Eve – ezer.

That’s what Eve is to Adam. His ezer. His lifesaver. His help in times of desperate need.

And what did Eve save Adam from?

I personally think she saved him from isolation. And that’s what all of us women do: we rescue men from eternal isolation.

I mean that on a deeper level than just the literal. Sure, Adam was literally alone at first, and so when God made Eve she saved him from physical solitude. But I think it’s more than that, too. I think that if God had populated the earth with thousands or millions of Adams, the problem would still be there. Men would remain isolated, because they don’t have the gift of relationship that women have.

Men tend to be much more violent, reserved, self-absorbed, and territorial. They’re not nearly as good at empathizing, bonding, nurturing, sharing, reading people’s emotions, or expressing themselves as women are. I’m not just listing stereotypes, I’m repeating what I learned in Psychology 101. Women are much better at all of these things. Guys, in general, suck at connecting.

This is clear from history: men have almost always had the majority of the power in most human communities and civilization, and as a result have flooded human history with violence. Men stab and blow each other up because they can’t connect. They can’t get outside their own egos. I truly believe that as women gain influence in societies, they bring with them their powers of empathy and connectedness, and this is a good thing. These qualities help civilizations get along. Men need women to help them not kill each other so much.

I’ve heard it said, “Behind every successful man there is a woman.” I deeply believe that this is true. Often it is a wife, although it doesn’t necessarily have to be – it could be a mother or sister.  Every successful man must have a woman somewhere who made him who he is.  Without wives, mothers and sisters, men would not be able to come out of their caverns of self-absorption and learn to love.

I believe that this is true of mankind in general but also on an individual level. Most men need women to help them connect with other members of the human species. I know my husband needs me for this purpose.

I once read that statistically, that if an elderly woman loses her husband, she can usually go on living for many more years if she is physically healthy. But when an old man loses his wife, he usually dies shortly thereafter. He has lost his link to humanity and thus expires.

I’m not saying by any means that woman’s only gift to humanity is her relational powers, nor that a man’s only contribution to a marriage is his strength in beating off violent offenders.  But I think that these are some of the practical reasons God instituted marriage. Eve’s ability to nurture and empathize rescues Adam from his self-imposed isolation, and Adam’s bodily strength protects his physically vulnerable wife.*

Men need women and women need men. That’s why God created marriage – to enable men and women to rescue one another, from man’s violence and from eternal isolation.

This is my theory, anyway. What do you think?

What am I forgetting? How else do husbands and wives or men and women save one another? How else does each of the sexes contribute to the cohesion, health and success of the human species? How else does marriage serve a practical function? Also, is there a better way of describing Eve’s strength than ”gift of relationship” or “relational powers?” I sense that these terms are lame.


[i] Eldredge, John and Stasi. Captivating: Unveiling the Mystery of a Woman’s Soul. Nashville: Nelson, 2005. 31.

*I’m also not saying that every woman and every man has these gender-specific gifts, or at least not in equal share. But in general, women are better at the one thing and men are better at the other.

I’m taking a break from my somber “What’s the Point of Marriage?” series to bring you a stupid and rather pointless story. It is also a scandalous story. So, siblings, parents, or other easily-scandalized friends: you may want to redirect your browsers away from this page rather than reading on at this point. If you ignore my warning and go ahead, and as a consequence get the jibblies, don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.

* * *

This Christmas both sets of parents – that is, Ben’s parents and my parents – pooled their money so that Ben and I could get ourselves a couch as a Christmas gift. We needed it. Ben and I have a long, narrow, empty room in our house on the main floor that hasn’t had any furniture in it since we moved in two years ago. We refer to this empty room as our “gallery.” It makes it seem not-so-purposeless-and-weird. The walls are bedecked with framed Pre-Raphaelite paintings (prints, of course), medieval weaponry (OK, one sword) and a few of my own medieval-inspired drawings. Ben and I went to a few furniture stores to find the right couch and, with the money from the folks, picked out a sleek, mocha-coloured leather sofa that would fit in with the décor. Me likee.

We picked up the couch from the furniture store in Ben’s truck a couple days before Christmas. We unwrapped the plastic and cardboard coverings and set it up in our gallery. We then proceeded to test it out, with him seated normally and me sprawled out across the length of the couch with my legs over his knees. It felt so nice and cozy. We were both very happy.

“It’s long enough to lie down on!” I said happily.

“You know,” he said slowly, “We could totally have sex on this couch.”

I rolled my eyes. Of course that was the first thing he thought of when we were testing out our brand new couch in the gallery. He could turn anything into a love bed if he put his mind to it.

“We could also have sex under the Christmas tree,” I pointed out, motioning to the glimmering gold wonder in the corner. It was the only other substantial thing in the room.

Inexplicably, his eyes widened as if I had just made an outrageous request – as if I was being very foxy and seductive. He liked it. He was obviously totally misunderstanding me. I protested.

“I’m just saying! We – or anyone – could technically do it anywhere! There’s nothing especially sexy about this couch!”  I wanted to be clear: I was not making a request, I was making an observation. You can do it anywhere, technically, is what I was trying to say.

But he had already decided how to interpret my words.

It didn’t come up again (I swear!) until a few days later when we were at our friends’ house with a bunch of other married couples.  Ben and I were sitting on the floor next to their Christmas tree, and a couple of guys were sitting together on the couch nearby.

“You know, the Christmas tree here and you guys on the couch over there make me think of something Kathy said to me the other day,” Ben began.

This is where I began to wish my husband had a mute button.

He retold our conversation on the couch, repeating my words in a liquidy voice, dripping with lust: “We could also have sex under the Christmas tree.”

The room filled with hoots and whistles. Above the noise I tried to holler, “I so didn’t say it like that!!”

When the room finally quieted down I was able to shout, “You are so completely twisting the way I said that! I was just making a point that all it takes is a horizontal surface.”

That was only met with multiple objections – “Not technically!” – and a few more winks and understanding nods.

“No . . . you guys . . .” was all I could muster. “I’m just sayin’!”

But it was no use. Of course. There was no changing the thoughts happening in the room. Ben and I were now the sex-crazed couple of the bunch, and I was apparently the more adventurous of the two. Not a word more could be said about couches or Christmas trees without knowing nods in my direction.

“I don’t know why you had to tell them that,” I whined to my husband in frustration after the third reference to me and Christmas trees that night.

“Hey, if Ben hadn’t told us the story, you would have eventually written about it in your blog,” one friend argued.

“Why would I ever do that?” I shot back.

* * *

I tried really hard, but I couldn’t come up with a life lesson or anything for this story. I really want to be a good blogger with lots of good life lessons but it is difficult.

The only “lesson” I learned from this very annoying episode is that no matter what I like to think, I will never have any real amount of control over my husband. He is his own person. This incident was a vivid reminder that Ben and I can be totally united in so many ways, and yet his mind and his mouth are his own. I will never possess a mute button for him or anyone else I love.

And I guess it’s a good thing. It can be irritating, realizing we can’t control our loved ones, but it is also the reason we are able to have relationships: because we are two distinct people with our own thoughts, each bringing our own unique ideas to the table. Er . . . couch. If we really could control or predict what the other was going to say all the time there would be no room for a relationship. It keeps things . . . interesting.

I guess I could also point out that married life is far from boring, and that hanging out with other married couples can be way more scandalous than you’d think.

I’m not sure if that counts as a life lesson but that’s all I’m giving you. It’s the weekend and my brain is tired from all the “What’s the Point of Marriage?” stuff.

Just to inform you, though, we have not AND WILL NOT ever use either of the aforementioned pieces of furniture (if you can call a Christmas tree a piece of furniture) for the aforementioned purposes. Although my friends would love to convince you otherwise, you have no reason to ever feel weird or ickified if you find yourself seated in our brown leather couch in the Quiring gallery.

I PROMISE YOU THIS.

Stay tuned next week for the final installment of “What is the Point of Marriage? To Fulfill Basic Human Needs.”

For a comment, feel free to tell me story about your spouse saying something completely embarrassing in front of your friends. It will make me feel better.

If you’ve been sticking with me for the last week or so, I’ve been exploring the purposes of marriage. So far, I’ve explained that I think they are (a) not to achieve happiness; (b) to grow us up; and (c) to teach us about God.  Another purpose of marriage, I believe, is (d) to teach us what it means to be human.

Let me explain.

# 1. Being human is about acknowledging and balancing our “composite nature” – in other words, the fact that we are both material and spiritual.

I, along with the majority of humanity throughout history, believe that human beings are somehow both earthly and celestial; both mortal and immortal; both carnal and divine. Aristotle called human beings “rational animals,” highlighting our paradoxical nature. Philip Yancey elegantly describes us as “angels wallowing in mud, mammals attempting to fly”[i]. He elaborates: “Although our cells may carry traces of stardust, we also bear the image of the God who made those stars”[ii]. We are a mysterious blend of earth and heaven.

I believe that marriage allows us to see this fact most clearly.

The sexual union which takes place in marriage is both the most animalistic and the most transcendent of human experiences. On the one hand it is merely biological – the meeting of organs and bodily fluids. It is an act we share in common with toads, cats and antelope. But on the other hand, it is one of the most personal and intimate of acts between two people.  In human sexual expression, souls touch.

We know that sex is different for humans than it is for animals because no other species on the planet makes such a big deal out of sex. No other creature seeks privacy in copulation. No other animal seeks exclusivity so intensely, and expresses such rage and sorrow at having that exclusivity intruded upon (Just think of how passionate lovers feel when they find out their partners have had an affair). No other species makes jokes and feels embarrassed about sex, as if it were somehow unnatural. Only humans recognize that there is something profound and otherworldly about sex.

No other act makes humans more aware that they are a strange and mysterious blend of the earthly and the divine.

Moreover, the experience of purposefully spending a lifetime with a single human being also teaches us how paradoxical we are, as we must take care of one another’s most basic, physical necessities at the same that we must consider each other’s highest emotional needs. We are an odd species indeed.

#2. Being human is about living in community and learning that we need one another.

Homo sapiens are a communal species. We are social by nature. Yet, we are eternally plagued by a desire to be selfish, to serve our own needs at the expense of others, and to pull away from one another when we experience conflict.  A part of us wants to be individual, to be special, to be above one another. In these times, we fight against our nature, as we fight to be separate from and better than one another.

Life by ourselves makes us less human. Life with other people makes us more human.

One of the most basic and natural ways in which we humans forge community is through marriage – through falling in love, making commitments to one another, living together, and creating families.

One of the most natural pulls we humans have to one another is that of sexual attraction and desire. That attraction and desire brings us to do all kinds of unnatural (or, one might say, transcendental) things, like swearing to remain loyal to a single human being for the rest of our lives. That powerful, instinctive drive for a sexual partner ensures that we seek out communion with another human being, even when we would often not choose to.  The instinct for marriage draws us into community.

The instinct for marriage, in short, keeps us human.

#3. Being human is about making sacrifices for one another and finding out that we’re better off for having done it.

Commenters on my previous posts have already pointed out that marriage creates an atmosphere where you need to make sacrifices to one another, and in doing so you become more like the person God wants you to be. Jesus and experience teach us that when we willingly sacrifice ourselves to others, instead of losing ourselves we actually gain.

Again, I think that no relationship exemplifies this fact like marriage. We have to surrender our time, our comfort, our desires, and our energy to make our relationship work – day after day after day.  And in the end, we win. In the process we get a constant lifelong companion who makes all kinds of personal sacrifices for our sakes, too.

As C. S. Lewis puts it, “one of the first things Eros [which he defines as “being in love”] does is to obliterate the distinction between giving and receiving”[iii]. When you are in love, giving and receiving become identical. When in love, you delight in giving good things to your beloved so much that it is like giving yourself a gift.

The same is with sex: when you give your body to your beloved an act of supreme vulnerability, you win.

Marriage, then, teaches us the truth about giving and about the nature of humanity.

In these ways, then, I believe marriage teaches us what it means to be human.

What do you think? Do you think marriage helps us to understand what being human is all about? Does my second point, especially the last part, even make sense to you? (My husband wasn’t so sure). Am I overlooking any other very important aspects of being human, or marriage?

*Note: For my next post, I think I’m going to take a break from all this heavy philosophizing and tell you a dumb story about my husband, and what he said to my friends to make me wish he had a mute button. It is a teensy bit very scandalous.

Then I want to finish my series with What is the Point of Marriage? Part 5: To Fulfill Basic Human Needs

Also: Yes, that’s me and my husband on our wedding day in the photo. Is it cheesy to post my own wedding pics on my blog?? I’m nervous about taking other ones from the internet and inadvertently breaking the law.


[i] Yancey, Philip. Rumours of Another World. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2003. 38.

[ii] ibid., 39.

[iii] Lewis, C. S. The Four Loves. London: Geoffrey Bles, 1960.

So I’ve been explaining what I think is the purpose of marriage in my previous two posts – the first point I made was that the purpose is not happiness, and the second was that it’s designed to grow us up. Now I want to move on to more theological considerations.

I am no theologian but I have spent a good portion of my life seriously thinking about these things. I know I have readers who come from Christian backgrounds, like me, and others who do not, so I’ll do my best to speak to everyone.

I believe that marriage reveals things to us about the nature of God.

I believe that all earthly experiences and all learning endeavors can teach us about God. Since God invented everything, the more we learn about things – all things – the better we are able to understand the nature of the One who created them. I think all education is essentially about Him, though not everyone realizes it.

But some things in life teach us more vividly or more essentially about his nature than other things do. I think marriage is one of those things. Here’s why.

1. Marriage teaches us about masculinity and femininity, which are both important attributes of God.

I intend to explore the issue of gender more deeply in a future post, but for now I just want to say this: God is both masculine and feminine. I refer to God with masculine pronouns, in accordance with the longstanding Judeo-Christian tradition (as I believe there are good reasons for this tradition), but I truly believe that God is equally masculine and feminine. God is both Father and Mother. God created male and female to express both sides of the spectrum of his nature; a part of God’s nature is revealed in woman and a part is revealed in man.

When the two are unified, as in marriage, I believe we get a slightly fuller picture of God.

2. Marriage helps us to understand God’s relationship to us.

I believe that God invented marriage in part so that we could get a better understanding of His relationship to us.

How does marriage do this? First of all, when a man or a woman falls in love, he or she gets a small taste of what God feels for us. When someone falls in love, she begins to understand what it feels like to be completely selfless towards another human being. Her beloved’s desires become her own; she begins to desire his happiness as much as she desires her own.

In the book of Isaiah, God says, “As a bridegroom rejoices over his bride, so will your God rejoice over you” (62:5). In short, then, the depth of wild, selfless, desperate love that I feel for my beloved, and that he feels for me, is a tiny picture of God’s love for his beloved: us.

The Bible often figures God’s people – first Israel, later the Church – as a woman to whom God is betrothed. This woman is often figured as being unfaithful, and God is a brokenhearted lover (cf. Isaiah 57:7-8; Hosea 2). But someday the bride and groom will be married. The day that Jesus returns to reclaim his people will be the wedding day (Revelation 19:7). “‘In that day,’ declares the Lord, ‘you will call me ‘my husband’” (Hosea 2:16).

On the one hand, you could argue that God uses the earthly imagery of a wedding to help us mortals to understand his unfathomable love for us. However, I think it’s possible that he actually designed marriage to reflect and imitate his relationship to us. I think he had the Great Wedding in mind when he thought up marriage, saying “This will help them understand how I feel and how I am going to bring them back to me.”

3. Marriage helps us to understand the relational nature of God.

As a Christian, I accept the doctrine of the Trinity, which teaches that God is one but exists as three persons. This is a complicated and mysterious doctrine, and I don’t want to get into too much detail here, but essentially the doctrine of the Trinity teaches us that God lives eternally in relationship within his Triune nature. Throughout eternity God has existed in relationship between the Father, the Son, and The Holy Spirit. God’s essence, therefore, is relational.

I said earlier that all learning leads us to a deeper understanding of God. But learning about and experiencing relationship is especially important, since God’s very essence is relational. The more we learn about what it’s like to live in relationship, the better we understand God’s nature.

Just as all relationships enable us to grow up, so do all relationships teach us about God’s relational nature; but marriage is special because of the unique way it unites two individuals, both in body and in spirit.  The Bible says marriage makes us “one flesh,” and no other relationship between two people is simultaneously as intentional and as permanent as marriage.  Marriage brings together bodily union (sex), emotional union (romance, friendship), and commitment. Marriage is – or ought to be – the most intimate relationship a person can ever experiences. As we experience this level of intimacy, we begin to get at the very heart of God’s nature.

In these three ways, I believe that marriage teaches us about God.

What do you think? Are there more/different ways that marriage might teach us about God? Do you think I’m wrong? Of course, if you don’t believe in God, none of this will make any sense to you.

In my next post, I plan to explore how marriage teaches us what it means to be human.