In recent decades, I have noticed a trend within popular culture—an inching beyond a mere tolerance of divorce to a celebration of it. Whether it is the ‘conscious de-coupling’ movement popularised by actress Gwyneth Paltrow and Coldplay lead Chris Martin in the 2010s, the existence of ‘divorce parties’, or the simultaneously heart-breaking and hopeful storyline of Marriage Story (a ‘story about the start of the end of a marriage’), divorce is now being embraced, at least in the progressive West, not just as an end in and of itself but a start of something new. Life does not end with divorce. In fact, it may have just begun.
Divorce is often portrayed as a refreshment—from a toxic relationship; from staidness and lifelessness; from monotony, monogamy, and the suppression of one’s personal hopes and dreams. And yet divorce also invites in the terror of insecurity, a harbouring of guilt, and an overwhelming sense of waste.
Is divorce primarily freedom, failure, or a mix of both? Does the gospel have any bearing on how we feel towards, and treat, divorces? Does how we see divorce affect the way we ‘do’ marriage as Christians?
A Loss to Be Grieved
As a starting point, we need to acknowledge that a divorce, most fundamentally, is the fission of a family. Although getting a divorce, is in some cases, justified, the fact that such circumstances have arisen is itself a terribly sad thing. In divorces, to quote Theodor W. Adorno, ‘the sphere of intimacy is transformed into a malignant poison as soon as the relationship in which it flourished is broken off’. Everybody has lost, to some degree.
There are clearly complexities. Although divorce was never intended as God’s design, it is an allowable concession, most clearly in infidelity and when one partner abandons the other (Matt 5:31–32; 19:9; 1 Cor 7:12–15). It is in some sense a legitimate mechanism to deal with the sinfulness of humankind. Thus we should not write it off as never being the right choice. Here I am working in the outer, greyer areas: divorces driven by unhappiness and dissatisfaction; these are difficult in a standard sense of the word, without involving adultery or the presence of domestic violence.
At the end of this specific category of marriages—those in this outer grey area—one will of course find themselves in grief: that these circumstances arose from what was once a happy, healthy and functioning relationship; that these are not two strangers who now see less of each other, but partners of the most intimate kind who at one time publicly and willingly, with great joy, pledged faithfulness to each other. Yet there will likely also be a sense of reprieve, the sense that a yoke has finally been broken, a relief that a season of tense family dinners is finally over. Both are coping mechanisms through a season of pain.
As Christians living in an age of trivialised divorce, we need to reflect on whether we too easily and unhealthily indulge in this way of thinking. Divorce may feel like freedom but the Bible is clear that it is primarily a form of compromise, indeed one put in place to reflect the hard-heartedness of man (Matt 19:8). Two peaceful homes may be better than one broken one, but a divorce often leaves behind sustained consequences of hurt beyond the remit of two ex-spouses. Generally it is a less than ideal state, and in some cases it shows our collective inability to forgive and the wretched fragility of human relationships when left to our own devices.
For all these reasons, I cannot see a reason to talk about divorce without shedding a tear, even if the circumstances between both parties afterwards are better, happier and more peaceable.
Not Excluded from God
Despite this, the good news of the cross is that all who are in Christ are sanctified and washed clean (1 Cor 1:2). Divorce is a big deal, but it does not preclude you from the kingdom of God (Jn 8:3–11). Divorce is hurtful: it breaks families apart and is a confirmation of our hard-heartedness. Yet repentant divorcee Christians remain beloved sons and daughters of God, and our fellow brothers and sisters in Christ. Jesus came to save and love precisely those who acknowledge their own brokenness, even in this area of life.[1]
In Christ we have the freedom to acknowledge our wrongdoings and past failings, and the blessing of a new unblemished identity: credited as righteous by faith in Jesus Christ (Rom 4:3). Faith in Christ, and not our marital status, is where true freedom lies.
So there are two important principles here: firstly, that divorce is a concession and secondly, that there is full forgiveness for those who come to Christ. These two truths should also affect those of us who are married.
Shaped by God’s Marriage to Us
What keeps us in our marriages when they are hard, boring, or lonely, when divorce may appear alluring and we forget that it goes against God’s good design? For married Christians, it may help to know that we are in fact in two marriages, both true, though categorically different: our earthly marriage, and our spiritual marriage to Christ as members of his church (Rev 19:7–9). The second is the defining factor of a Christian’s identity, superseding every earthly marker, including our marital status.
Our spiritual marriage informs the purpose of our earthly marriages. Marriage is not merely for pleasure, intimacy, or security, good as these blessings are. Whilst it exists in an intimate two-person sphere, marriage serves public functions, including to proclaim the gospel of God’s committed and covenantal love to a world that has lost faith in such concepts. Although this is true of all marriages, Christians, armed with this knowledge and personal experience of God’s enduring love, have the privilege of making this the express goal of our marriages. We are thoughtful and intentional in the way we speak and act within our marriages, to make this proclamation as clear and unequivocal as possible.
Marriage is hard, but knowing that both husband and wife have roles that are ordained and blessed by God should provide us the motivation to carry our respective responsibilities (Eph 5:22–33). Having a purpose that transcends personal comfort and fulfilment will steel us for the hardship and loneliness that will beset our marriages at various points.
Our spiritual marriage should also shape the pattern of our marriages. At their best, earthly marriages reflect the beauty of reconciliation, grace, and forgiveness. Even in sub-par representations we get glimpses of this, where couples come out the other side of great grief and hurt choosing to forgive and remaining committed. ‘Good sense makes one slow to anger, and it is his glory to overlook an offence’ (Prov 19:11). Through knowledge and experience of our spiritual union, we commit to being kind, exemplifying the kindness God himself has shown us (Eph 2:7). We forgive as we have been forgiven (Eph 4:32). We do not keep a record of wrong (1 Cor 13:5), knowing God himself has wiped our slates clean.
Of course, this purpose and pattern are more easily and satisfactorily exemplified when both partners are each committed to playing their role. Dissatisfaction arises when one party feels they are contributing more than the other, or that their marriage is weighed down by their other half. However, even in these circumstances we can be encouraged that God will vindicate and judge fairly. In the meantime, we each remain independently responsible for our roles and actions before God. That is, after all, why both spouses publicly say their respective set of vows in a wedding ceremony. Like Paul, we set our hearts to please God in all circumstances (2 Cor 5:9), be they challenging or smooth-sailing.
The Most Unequal Marriage of All Time
Finally, there is one profound truth that applies to both married and unmarried Christians. It is that in committing himself to us, God has involved himself in the most unequal marriage of all time. In our spiritual union we are the adulterous wandering partner who has broken our vows. We do not have a righteous leg to stand on when we consider our own conduct in our relationship with our Creator. Yet his faithful love towards his people is built up forever (Ps 89:2).
So when we feel slighted in our own marriage or haunted by our past mistakes in this sphere of life, may we remember our spiritual union to a God who pledges his ‘steadfast love and mercy’ to us daily (Hos 2:20). In him we have the freedom that is independent of our marital status and the pattern, source, and motivation for our own commitment to our spouses.
[1] For a pertinent example, see his treatment of the Samaritan woman at the well, who has had five husbands, in John 4:13–26.
