fulfilled covenant

One of the more surprising things I’ve learned through the process is how the gift of singleness becomes all the more tangible (and even desirable) in light of what’s ahead. 

It surfaces as we discuss the challenges of placing the other person above our own career paths, academic pursuits, preference of location, etc., and the difficulty and anxiety involved with re-orienting one’s life around another person. This comes alongside the struggle to make one’s private dreams now subordinate to the communal one, surrendering the right to make individualistic decisions, and giving up one’s entitlement to dictating how time, money, and even social relationships are managed... 

This is, of course, a very beneficial process for couples, as it encourages them to count the true cost of becoming one, not just emotionally and physically, but holistically — directionally, geographically, financially, spiritually, etc. But many come to realize that this is a difficult and at times painful process. It’s a lot to give up. (There’s a lot to gain.) Point is, if you’re headed towards marriage though, you must count the cost. (Or you’re not taking it seriously enough.) 

I don’t ever want to minimize the unique struggles that come with singleness, but for now I am highlighting something the Apostle Paul did in his letter to the Corinthians — that singles do have a freer, more visionary, less restrained, more aspirational, resourceful, liberated, and uniquely Christ-like life. So, singles, may you realize and maximize this gift to your heart’s content. 

But, most importantly, may we all acknowledge something that virtually all religious and secular thinkers have agreed upon — that much of the struggles of a single person (hungering for companionship, longing to be seen and known, wanting to feel loved), these struggles in fact persist even after the “I do.” 

Marriage is not the answer to our heart’s deepest longings. The search for ‘the right person who will meet my deepest needs’ have led many to ruin. (See Alain de Botton’s NY Times article “Why You Will Marry the Wrong Person”.) 

When something like this is said it is often referring to the miraculous healings performed by the apostles, massive conversions and baptisms, and charismatic, prophetic utterance is about the present or the future.

What’s interestingly (and conveniently) left out are the many afflictions of the apostles which arguably outnumber their triumphs. When people say ‘I can do with the apostles did’ do they mean ‘I can also be gladly imprisoned, stoned, flogged, burned, eaten by lions, crucified... Let us go and die!’ I think not.

Such statements therefore are not the proper exegesis of Scripture but of the human heart — one that is set on comfort and convenience, one that denounces all suffering (for evil or for good), and as a result forgoes the true blessedness and assurance that the Christian can (and ought to) find in Christ. 

Does Scripture not elevate and appraise more highly the Christian’s suffering with Christ over the Christian’s display of mighty deeds and miraculous works? Are we reassured of our inheritance in the kingdom of God provided that we do mighty things in his name or provided that we suffer with him?

“On that day many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?’ And then will I declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness.’” (Matthew 7:22-23)

The madman jumped into their midst and pierced them with his eyes. "Whither is God?" he cried; "I will tell you. We have killed him---you and I. All of us are his murderers. But how did we do this? How could we drink up the sea? Who gave us the sponge to wipe away the entire horizon? What were we doing when we unchained this earth from its sun? Whither is it moving now? Whither are we moving? Away from all suns? Are we not plunging continually? Backward, sideward, forward, in all directions? Is there still any up or down? Are we not straying, as through an infinite nothing? Do we not feel the breath of empty space? Has it not become colder? Is not night continually closing in on us? Do we not need to light lanterns in the morning? Do we hear nothing as yet of the noise of the gravediggers who are burying God? Do we smell nothing as yet of the divine decomposition? Gods, too, decompose. God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him.

"How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it? There has never been a greater deed; and whoever is born after us---for the sake of this deed he will belong to a higher history than all history hitherto."

Here the madman fell silent and looked again at his listeners; and they, too, were silent and stared at him in astonishment. At last he threw his lantern on the ground, and it broke into pieces and went out. "I have come too early," he said then; "my time is not yet. This tremendous event is still on its way, still wandering; it has not yet reached the ears of men. Lightning and thunder require time; the light of the stars requires time; deeds, though done, still require time to be seen and heard. This deed is still more distant from them than most distant stars---and yet they have done it themselves.

top to bottom shouldn’t be

Hearing about tragic events usually evoke fearful and anxious thoughts. This is a problem societally. For one, our natural cognitive defense mechanism kicks into "fight or flight" mode, against what appears to have triggered our fear and anxiety - which in this case are the suffering victims. It blinds us from the humanity of the victims and paints them (in our personal narrative) as mere “triggers.” 

This naturally creates a distance between me and those in my society who need my heartfelt empathy and practical engagement. “But how am I to draw near to the sufferer when everything inside me cries, ‘Run!'?” We can start with prayer. Thoughts are stubborn, but in prayer thoughts become more malleable. We can take out thoughts "captive" and "renew" them through prayer and submit them to an even more powerful (stubborn?) agent, i.e., the love of God. When "thoughts and prayers" are offered to a suffering friend, therefore, we are saying, "I'm not looking away in the interest of my cognitive well-being. I'm choosing to draw near in love." Or, “I pray for you because I long for you.” (ref. 2 Cor. 9:14) 

In Genesis 3, the serpent had two basic means of tempting our first parents into sin: a false prophecy ("you will not surely die") and a conspiracy theory ("for God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God"). From the very beginning, the world was troubled by God's word being taken out of context and human's selective hearing.