Unconditional: Thoughts on ‘Christian Marriage’

I’ve already written a little bit about my parents and the model of codependency that I grew up with as an example of a successful marriage. Another layer to my “expectations” for marriage was my religious upbringing.

I was raised the daughter of an evangelical pastor in the South. I was educated through a mixture of homeschool and private Christian schools. I attended some sort of church service at least three times a week from age 0 to 30. It’s safe to say that my upbringing was religious in nature. So it is no wonder that my idea of marriage was what protestant evangelicals refer to as “Christian marriage.”

You may be wondering, “What does an ideal Christian marriage look like?”

It looks like a lifelong commitment between a husband who is a protective and strong leader for his wife and family, and a wife who supports and respects him. Many would even say that your marriage is supposed to help you grow closer to God, to refine you and make you more holy. Marriage is described as an act of service – each person serving the other (within their defined roles), and an unbreakable covenant between two people before God.

Honestly, this version of marriage sounded great to me. I bought in. In fact, because my parents seemed so happy (and I didn’t have many friends from divorced homes), I thought this version of marriage was the IDEAL for a partnership with another human being. For most of my young life, I believed that the only way I would have a successful marriage (one that would last a lifetime) was to find a good Christian man and make sure God was central to our relationship.

I can even admit that I believed that it was rare for a marriage to survive if you weren’t Christian, because I thought that the key to success was that it was rooted in a couple’s mutual faith in Jesus. Purity culture taught me that my first love should always be Jesus, and that the love trickled down from there (Jesus > Husband > Children > Everyone Else). You will notice that there’s no room in this model of self love. Marriage and motherhood were humble and selfless roles to be aspired to by all godly women. Careers, not having children, or spending too much time on yourself – all selfish and potential threats to the traditional family. To this day, I still wrestle with guilt over being a working mom. The religious conditioning runs deep.

For many, myself included, this idealistic view of marriage and gender roles quickly erodes. Not every woman wants to be a mother. Not every man is loving and safe. It might be neccessary for both spouses to work to make ends meet. And what about same-sex relationships? There’s no room for them in the Christian version of marriage. How could there be when masculine and feminine are so narrowly defined?

It didn’t take long for me to start questioning the Christian model for marriage. Immediately, our relationship did not seem to fit the traditional gender roles we were told to embody. I could never relate to the other wives at Church. Everything seemed flipped, includng our desires. When my husband had an affair less than two years into our marriage, I was devestated and felt blindsided. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. We did all the things the Church told us to do. My marriage was supposed to be successfull. I was guaranteed a successful marriage if I followed the rules!

Lessons “Christian Marriage” Taught Me

  • Being a Christian doesn’t give you better odds of avoiding divorce.

    After nearly 13 years of marriage, many sessions of therapy (both solo and couples), reading ALL the books, and with a divorce on the horizon, if I have learned anything it is that Christian marriage isn’t any more likely to succeed than any other marriage.

    For as long as I can remember, Pastors talked about Christian marriage as the blueprint for success – and yet, they also lamented the fact that the divorce rate is the same within and outside of the faith. I can’t remember what excuses they made for this statistic, but apparently even Christians will admit that the data does not show any better odds for Christians when it comes to divorce rates.

    I’ve been writing and blogging since I was a teenager. It is interesting to have a record of my personal growth and evolution, but it can also be quite embarrassing. I recall arguing strongly against living together before marriage (a passive agressive attempt at defending my own choices), and doubling down when my best friend at the time (who lived with her boyfriend) argued against this idea. We concluded that it could work out or not work out in either scenario, but disagreed with which gave you better odds and why. Looking back at that post and conversation, I can only cringe. I was projecting my own insecurity, and being hurtful towards someone I loved in the process. Sometimes my divorce feels like karma for those early insecure ramblings. Her marriage has been far more successful than mine.

    • “Christian Marraige” is a model for dysfunction.

    Knowing that my marriage is ending inspite of doing everything “right” (according to the Church) has not only taught me that Christian marriages are not bulletproof, but I now also suspect that the model may be a recipe for dysfunction and difficulty. I strongly believe that pastoral counseling should never replace real therapy. The advice given to me and my husband by pastors when we preparing for marriage, or while we were going through difficulties was (and remains) downright toxic. It’s advice that has held my friends captive in abusive marriages. It is advice that amplified my husband’s issues while stigmatizing asking for help. It is advice that helped me to ignore and justify my own self-abandonment. The advise was in opposition to another important lesson I have learned–

    • Healthy love is not unconditional.

    My idea of love and marriage was that when it gets hard – you work on it, and stick it out, because it’s the right thing to do. It would be a lie to say that I don’t still feel this way on some level. Marriage is hard work, and intention and effort are often the key to longevity.

    But love should not be unconditional. That is a recipe for misery and abuse. The idea of unconditional love is so comforting on the surface. I have flaws. I’m far from perfect. Can you love me anyway? Is there anything I could do to make you not love me? You want the answer to be no. Especially when it comes to superficial things like gaining weight, forgetting to wash the dishes, etc.

    But healthy love should have conditions. It’s reasonable to expect your partner to not physically harm you, for instance. Unconditional love can be used as a weapon to enable abuse, to demean or diminish a partner, to ignore consent, or to hold someone captive. Marriage is an agreement – one entered into mutually. If the terms change, you get to decide whether or not you want to be a part of the partnership.

    I still think that love is a choice, and that if both parties want to make it work – they can under almost any cirumstances. Marriage isn’t easy. Compromise and communication are important. But, I also understand that self abandonment can disguise itself as selflessness; that marriage is not the sacred institution I was conditioned to believe it was; and that it is OK to move on when it doesn’t work out.

    • The stigma of divorce is alive and well in the Church

    It is difficult to find a place in a Church community as a divorcee. It’s not impossible. There are far too many divorced people in the world for churches to be turning them away. Many churches have even started groups specifically for divorced people. But there is still a stigma and many barriers to participation, especially in more conservative denominations. Churches don’t really like or know what to do with people who do not fit their idealized family model. Some even treat it as the unforgivable sin. Is it any wonder that I am not running back to the church for support during this time?

    • There is nothing wrong with getting a divorce.

    I cannot honestly say that I am not disappointed to be getting a divorce. It is not what I wanted, and it does feel like a personal failure. I have moments where I feel embarrassed and judged, and I still have a lot to work through emotionally. However, I no longer buy into the idea that marriage is a sacred, God-designed institition. I know a lot more now about what healthy partnership looks like, and what I want going forward. Most of all, I refuse to let anyone make me feel “less than” for being brave enough to allow my marriage to reach its conclusion. There is nothing wrong with getting a divorce. It’s a “right” we should value. It doesn’t make you a bad person. It doesn’t change your value or indicate something is wrong with you. In many cases it is the most mature and healthy choice one can make. I believed that before I was living it, and I will continue to fight to destigmatize it now that it’s part of my story.

    We should all be able to live our lives to the fullest without carrying around the shame heaped upon us by others and their institutions.

    And my final lesson?

    • Unlearning is an important part of any education.

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