A sobering reality has crashed in upon our consciousness in recent times: Couples in the ministry are not immune to the forces pulling marriages apart. Divorce rates among clergy are escalating. And evidence mounts that an unprecedented number of clergy marriages are in trouble. These indications clearly signal that even those entrusted with the spiritual care of the church and the encouragement of its members may have difficulty putting it all together at home.
In a community that looks to the church as the guardian and preserver of the ideals of marriage and family, the breakdown of a minister's marriage sends a shock wave. If the faith we hold is not effective in the pastor's home, then what? Undoubtedly no one is more startled than the ministering couple themselves, for more than likely they at one time thought that divorce would not, could not, threaten them.
We embarked on our marriage on the high tide of romantic love, feeling confident that we could handle whatever life might bring. The conflicts between us that inevitably brought frustrated expectations and feelings of not being appreciated surprised us and left us somewhat dismayed. Of course, we carefully camouflaged from others the harsh words and hurt feelings, Karen's tears and Ron's gloomy silences. We're thankful to God that in times of anger and misunderstanding we did not inflict bodily injury on each other or split up. But we would be less than honest if we didn't admit that at times we each fantasized about what it would be like to be free of the whole relationship.
Early on we rarely, if ever, talked together about what was going on between us. The usual "sweet nothings" to each other notwithstanding, our lives focused on the church. That very necessary balance between "us" and "them" was tilted quite definitely in favor of "them." We learned to get along by avoiding areas of conflict. We ignored some of our fears, shoving them back into the closets of our minds. The commitment to permanence in marriage that was part of both of our backgrounds, probably did as much as anything to hold us together, though fear of embarrassment and of loss of job security, along with a stubborn pursuit of the elusive tomorrow when the "conflicts will be gone," contributed also. Humdrum, superficial, parallel living—we would never have described our marriage in those terms, but no doubt they came close to the truth.
But we wanted more. Over time, and we regret how much time, new insights have changed a good deal of our thinking about marriage. We now realize how much a rich and fulfilling marriage relationship contributes to our being loving persons, effective parents, and capable and productive workers. A healthy, growing marriage is something worth working for. We are not selfish when we give our relationships the time they need.
Further, we have discovered that making a marriage last through the demands and expectations of contemporary living requires active commitment. When we marry we enter upon a lifelong effort to achieve a close, intimate relationship. In this respect marriage is not unlike an expensive instrument—it requires periodic fine-tuning. While we as ministers are generally among the best at understanding the dynamics of inter personal relationships, often we are sadly negligent in knowing how, or even in sensing the need, to keep the home fires burning.
Perhaps most important, we have come to believe that to fulfill the vow "to love, honor, and cherish till death do us part," husbands and wives must experience redemptive love. (We use redemptive because it helps distinguish the quality of the Greek agape from other connotations of the English love.) The security such love brings reduces anxieties about modeling a perfect home. It cuts windows and doors in the walls that often prevent close relationships. Redemptive love sharpens our senses, making us keen both to our own needs and those of others.
The ministering couple's advantage
Having admitted that clergy marriages involve struggles, let us hasten to add an encouraging note: The ministering couple just may have an advantage. If fulfillment in marriage involves an experiencing of God's love, then at least we are dealing in a currency with which the ministry couple is likely to be familiar. In fact, familiarity with it may have caused us to overlook it. We must see it anew in its radiance and consciously apply it to our marriages.
The apostle John wrote a lot about redemptive love. Perhaps Jesus' directive best sums up his teaching: "Love one another, as I have loved you" (John 15:12). Elsewhere, in a few well-chosen words, the apostle reflects on love and Christ's command. Our love, he tells us, is to be not only modeled after but generated by the saving love God manifested to us in Christ (1 John 4:7-9). Christian thinking about loving others is always rooted in the unchangeable fact that God loves us. "We love him, because he first loved us" (verse 19).
Our first work is to sense the magnitude of redemptive love and to be open to the movings of the Spirit by which that love is poured into our hearts (Rom. 5:5). It has been said, "Only by love is love awakened." Sensing how much God has loved and valued me, I may love and value myself and then love and value others. Contemplation of Calvary becomes, then, more than just some mystical religious exercise. Rather, it serves as a vital filling station on the highway of everyday life. As our empty emotional and spiritual tanks are replenished we become able to love.
While individual prayer and study is important, having devotions as a couple can forge strong bonds. It can be difficult for ministering couples to do, though. This kind of reflection may seem unnecessary. (After all, doesn't he get enough spiritual nourishment in sermon preparation? And doesn't she get the same as she prepares for teaching in the children's divisions or for other ministries she may be involved in?) And often it may get lost in busy schedules.
We ourselves have faltered in our attempts to get such a habit going. In addition to the reasons mentioned, we have found that discussions of spiritual issues often brought on conflict of its own. Frequently it became a kind of question-and-answer time, with Karen asking in all sincerity about the Bible and theology and Ron feeling obliged (as the resident expert!) to answer. Ron was uncomfortable in this role because, as it came out later, often he didn't have real answers and was embarrassed to say so! Only recently have we been able to accept each other's questioning. That, it seems to us, is evidence of growth. It has enabled us to share on the deeper spiritual and emotional levels some of the great themes of the gospel.
Loving the hard-to-love
Because John speaks of himself as one "whom Jesus loved" (John 13:23), early Renaissance paintings of the Last Supper depict him as a retiring, gentle lad lolling on Jesus' bosom. Actually, he was rough and passionate, critical, proud and combative. Son of Thunder, Jesus nick named him. On a trip through Samaria, this vengeful disciple urged that the people who had been inhospitable to Jesus be destroyed by fire.
Jesus loved John in spite of the unlovely traits he possessed, not because he had a pleasing personality. His love led Him to see people like John differently from the way others saw them. The anger, the power plays, the revenge, or in other cases, the gloomy silence or withdrawal—all of the things that can make a person hard to get along with— tell us about the individual inside. That person probably doesn't feel very good about himself. He acts as he does to shield his feeble inner self, to buttress it and make something of it. In this regard, twentieth century spouses differ little from first-century disciples.
When Jesus' redemptive love grips us, it enables us to see others with the compassion with which Christ sees them. He said, "Love one another, as I have loved you." In effect, this means, "Have redemptive eyesight. Become one with one another, as I have become one with you and have seen and heard and understood your needs."
Perhaps in no area of married life can redemptive love make as immediate an impact as it can in our communication with each other. When David and Vera Mace studied clergy marriages, they found that couple communication was one of the areas in which pastors and their wives most felt the need for improvement.
If a couple is to build their relationship effectively, they must share themselves in their communication. Karen comes from a communicative family; openness is quite natural to her. It doesn't come easily for me. Whenever things go wrong or a problem comes up, she generally wants to talk it out right away. I often react differently. Sometimes I just want to be left alone with my feelings for a while. Sometimes I simply don't have anything to say. At other times I have lots I'd like to say but can't put into words. Sometimes, because I'm worried about how she will react, I say nothing. More often than I like to admit, I spill out all the overpowering negative feelings and shut Karen down so that she doesn't want to talk anymore either.
Regularly responding to problems by clamming up, avoiding discussion, changing the subject, or putting the other person down so that he or she doesn't want to communicate verbally anymore can put great stress on a relationship. The marriage partner is left in the precarious position of having to guess what is going on. Also, we hesitate in part to open ourselves to others because we crave acceptance. If we could be freed from the ever-present fear that when we share what we feel, we are going to be humiliated in some way—that is shamed, put down, or made to look foolish—we would almost certainly communicate at deeper levels more readily and more often.
Here redemptive love makes a difference. Because such love is not conditional, the person who has it truly accepts his spouse—both his strengths and his struggles—and does everything possible to lessen the fear of rejection. The person who loves redemptively listens for feelings and shows by tone of voice, body language, and words his willingness to accept the other. When a couple realize that they can share anything with each other with the assurance of acceptance, they are on the trail to ever-deepening intimacy.
Redemptive love not only accepts, it also gives. Its nature impels it to place itself at the service of others. And there is no commitment to service to another stronger than the marriage vow. The apostle John, whose writings portray redemptive love more clearly than any other part of Scripture, lifts our eyes to see God loving this way. "God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son" (John3:16). John 15:13 and 1 John 3:16 repeat the theme of sacrificial love. The one who loves suffers and may even lie down in death for the object of his love.
Now, to the romanticists, the hedonists, the high priests of the self-fulfillment movement, this makes no sense at all. Love, they say, is pleasurable, exciting, and fun. If it's not these, it's not love. They want the exhilaration of love in the fast lane. They marry expecting love, happiness, and fulfillment to be readily available, already ripe and hanging on the lower branches. It doesn't seem to occur to them that they might have to search for these fruits, or even to cultivate the tree in order that a crop might develop. Rather, they sit down and bemoan their empty baskets. And more and more of them are moving on to other trees.
To "love one another, as I have loved you" means giving the well-being of others a higher priority than human nature is prone to do. Few of us will ever be called upon to actually give up life for one we love. But when we spell life as p-l-a-n-s, t-i-m-e, d-e-s-i-r-e-s, or even i-d-e-a-s, we see how this love translates into behavior that strengthens relationships at home.
Ron never gets up in the morning without an agenda and a strong, even stubborn determination to accomplish it, though it requires more time than his day affords. I don't think my agenda is nearly as well defined or as lengthy as his—except perhaps on Friday afternoons, when I want to pull a messy house together and get things ready for the Sabbath. Now, Ron could probably get by with less perfection in Friday after noon housekeeping than I require. But often, in what I consider an act of sacrificial love, he lays aside his personal plans for the afternoon and does more than his usual chores, just because it means so much to one he loves.
Redemptive love's resiliency
Jesus taught that redemptive love is not temporary. It lasts. It keeps its commitment even in the midst of difficulty. It is altogether different from the kind of love that is awakened by passion and that dies when severely tested. Redemptive love bounces back when it is knocked down. It hangs in there when the going gets tough. It endures the storm clouds—even without the hope of a silver lining. In a very real way it is often an act of faith, keeping a covenant even in the face of evidence testifying to the relationship's brokenness.
A number of years ago a pastor, to all appearances successful, sat before Ron and poured out the details of his disintegrating marriage. He spoke of strife that had come to blows, of, his interest in another woman, and of the devious ways he had devised to find time with her. He was anxious to end his marriage. When Ron asked what he expected of him, the minister replied, "I want you to tell me how to get out of this marriage without hurting my children and my congregation."
Ron listened, but did not give him the advice he sought. Ron couldn't because of some deep convictions we hold about marriage. Our hearts ache for those who have known divorce. We know the difficulties that brought some couples to such a decision. We do not consider divorce to be an unpardonable sin, but we think of it as a tragedy. It means the loss of a couple through whom God wished to demonstrate His love to a little bit of this world—to their children, their relatives, their church, their neighbors.
Toward those who were divorced in spite of self-sacrificing efforts to hold their marriage together, we feel only compassion and a desire to heal and restore. But to those considering divorce we ask, "Have you really given redemptive love a chance?" We believe that the God who keeps covenants will supply whatever couples need to keep theirs.
Happily, the marriage of the minister whom we mentioned was saved. During a period of time away from the ministry, with much prayer, with the support of a few friends, and with counseling, this couple reversed the process of deterioration and revived their relationship. In time he was able to pursue his calling once again.
So redemptive love does not settle for the decent burial of a relationship gone stale. It seeks a resurrection.
This couple's renewing of their relationship was a sublime experience. But if couples could experience all along what this man and woman found in their time of crisis, they could avoid such pain, and make their marriages happier and more fulfilling.
Redemptive love can last because the forgiveness it entails makes this kind of renewal possible. First, it can bear another's wrongdoing without yielding to the natural desire for revenge. Such forgiveness almost always restores interest in the relationship and leads to a firmer bond.
Second, redemptive love opens the door for new beginnings. It puts the past as far away as east is from west and faces the future with hope. Loving another person does not mean that we no longer remember past injuries and conflicts. But it does mean that we consciously choose not to dwell upon them, that instead we bring to mind our covenant and our forgiveness. It means that we look to the moment at hand with courage.
Couples in ministry who open themselves to the redemptive love God showed to us in His Son can find renewal for their own marriages. They can have God's help not only to make their marriages last but to make theirs the kind of relationship that will exemplify to their children and the members of their congregations what happiness truly Christian homes can hold.
