It happened Monday, and I never expected it to. Those words, out of my mouth.
My family is a strange one. My parents divorced almost a year ago after 40+ years of marriage. My sister is the Wonder Woman of a family that has three stepkids and also two people with special needs. Her life is busy and FULL. She and I have our parents and two aunts that will need care as the years progress.
Some of my Protestant friends assumed upon my becoming Orthodox Christian, I would soon become a nun. Truth told, I know that for me, to leave the world and my sister to care for the entirety of our family by herself seems one of the most grievous evils I could commit. So being monastic has not been a thought in my head. Plus, black is not THAT slimming!
At a women's retreat, Bishop Basil made a statement that scandalized me. "There are only two ways of life that are blessed by the Church. They are marriage and monasticism. I don't mean to say that you cannot be single and be a Christian; it is just much harder." He went on give examples of why that's true, and they had a lot to do with accountability and the natural selfishness that is built in to every singleton's existence. We don't HAVE to do ANYTHING. I've lived alone for years. Even though I don't love it, there is something fantastic about being able to go home and shut the door when you are done for the day. I joke that unscheduled naps and unlimited bubble baths are the compensations of the loveless spinster schoolmarm--but it's true.
But I have always missed having a home. By this, I always thought I meant having a family. With my parent's divorce, my first thought was, "I have no family." And it's true.
An abbess of an Orthodox women's monastery led our last women's retreat. I had never spent any time with a nun before. My idea of nuns are from the Sound of Music. I often suspect that becoming a novice would be a great way to meet a handsome baron; so you see how ill-informed I am. I was relieved to find that I really liked this abbess. She also had come straight from two weeks at the bedside of an ailing family member. I found that connection to her family heartening.
It was only after the retreat that I realized that I live in a manner more isolated and devoid of 'home' than even monastics.
Eastern Christianity is a much less individualistic approach to faith than the one I grew up in. It's said that when one priest was asked if Jesus was his personal Savior, he said, "No, I like to share Him." We believe that each person is made in God's image and we are to look for the health of our own souls, as well as those around us. "Blessed is he who regards everyone as God after God," Evagrius of Pontus says. In his excellent book "Short Trip to the Edge," Scott Cairns embodies the strength of this sentiment in the Church with these words: "Ourselves, alone is finally a very undesirable circumstance, perhaps even a quintessentially satanic circumstance."
I woke up Saturday morning to the news that one of my friends had been tonsured a monk earlier that day. I've never had a friend become monastic before, the other monks in my life were monks when I met them. Although we message often, it was unexpected to myself and others close to him that live in town.
I was dismayed and amused at the irony that the first feeling that ripped through me at the news was the EXACT same jealousy that attends my selfish thoughts when a friend gets engaged; "I am alone." He had found rest and happiness; he had found home.
Which leads me back to Monday. In chatting with a dear friend who comes from a more individualistic model of faith, she asked me THE question that all singletons must finally answer, or answer daily, as the case may be: "If you knew that you never were going to get married, would you be content? Could you let God be enough?"
And that's when I knew; and the answer flowed out of me like water. The answer I never thought I'd give. If I knew I would never be married, I would probably would look into becoming a nun. In the end, the question is neither single nor married. The answer to all questions is home.
Home in Him. Home with each other. Whatever that looks like.
I hope I find it someday.
Showing posts with label marriage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label marriage. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 13
Thursday, February 2
Marriage
As I have mentioned before, my parents are divorcing. And as I have mentioned before, I have not ever been married. The first statement has a lot to do with the second. I was chatting with a friend tonight; funny how conversations become mirrors...
We were discussing my belief that I would not have been able to be in any kind of healthy relationship until I was about 32 or 33. I told him that my strongest prayers about marriage and children have always been prayers of negation: that I would much rather have a broken heart outside of marriage than live with a broken heart inside one. My sweet, jaded conversation partner (who is also resolutely single) was quick to assure me me that most marriages are this way.
That might be true. But for my whole life, I've always believed that marriages do not have to be that way. I got home after our chat and wondered... How is it that I have such a high view of marriage? Nothing in my background or experiences would suggest that a high view of marriage would be natural for me.
How do I have such a high view of marriage?
Sacrament.
There are two types of theology within Christendom; non-sacramental and sacramental. I came from a distinctly non-sacramental theology, and have moved into a sacramental one. One of the sacraments of the Church is marriage.
When I was younger (and non-sacramental in my theology) , the teaching on marriage that inscribed itself most on my mind and heart was Ephesians 5:25-33: "Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless. In this same way, husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. After all, no one ever hated their own body, but they feed and care for their body, just as Christ does the church— for we are members of his body. “For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh.” This is a profound mystery—but I am talking about Christ and the church. However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband.(Emphases mine.)
How is this possible for a human man? It's NOT!! But I always saw this as a picture, an icon. A very, very beautiful one. Orthodoxy defines sacraments as "vessels of the mystical participation in divine grace of mankind. In a general sense, the Orthodox Church considers everything which is in and of the Church as sacramental or mystical.
The sacraments, like the Church, are both visible and invisible. In every sacrament there is a combination of an outward visible sign with an inward spiritual grace. Saint John Chrysostom wrote that they are called mysteries because what we believe is not the same as what we see; instead, we see one thing and believe another.
The sacraments are personal — they are the means whereby God’s grace is appropriated to each individual Christian. In most of the sacraments, the priest mentions the Christian name of each person as he administers the sacrament." (orthodoxwiki.org)
A sacrament is an outward, physical sign of an inward work that God is doing; that only God can do. Baptism is for remission of sins. Communion is Christ. Marriage is a picture of Christ and the Church. How is that possible??
What I realized tonight is that marriage was my first sacrament, my first belief in sacramental theology. I see quite clearly that no one, no one can live in marriage well. Some movie I saw once said; "We are all used car salesmen when it comes to love." And it's true. But I loved the beauty in this scripture so much that I believed; that I believe. I knew even as a teenager that it would take more of me than I have to be married. To my mind, for anyone to be married well would take strength, love, and grace from beyond oneself. But I do believe that two people can (and do) live together in sacramental, redemptive ways.
And so irony of all ironies, marriage has served me well. Always has. The phenomenon of marriage and the testimony about marriage has caused me to be the kind of person who "believe(s) as many as six impossible things before breakfast," like the Queen in Alice in Wonderland. (Wonderland is another place the led to a looking glass, much as tonight's conversation was.)
Marriage led me to sacrament, and for that, I will always be grateful to it.
We were discussing my belief that I would not have been able to be in any kind of healthy relationship until I was about 32 or 33. I told him that my strongest prayers about marriage and children have always been prayers of negation: that I would much rather have a broken heart outside of marriage than live with a broken heart inside one. My sweet, jaded conversation partner (who is also resolutely single) was quick to assure me me that most marriages are this way.
That might be true. But for my whole life, I've always believed that marriages do not have to be that way. I got home after our chat and wondered... How is it that I have such a high view of marriage? Nothing in my background or experiences would suggest that a high view of marriage would be natural for me.
How do I have such a high view of marriage?
Sacrament.
There are two types of theology within Christendom; non-sacramental and sacramental. I came from a distinctly non-sacramental theology, and have moved into a sacramental one. One of the sacraments of the Church is marriage.
When I was younger (and non-sacramental in my theology) , the teaching on marriage that inscribed itself most on my mind and heart was Ephesians 5:25-33: "Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless. In this same way, husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. After all, no one ever hated their own body, but they feed and care for their body, just as Christ does the church— for we are members of his body. “For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh.” This is a profound mystery—but I am talking about Christ and the church. However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband.(Emphases mine.)
How is this possible for a human man? It's NOT!! But I always saw this as a picture, an icon. A very, very beautiful one. Orthodoxy defines sacraments as "vessels of the mystical participation in divine grace of mankind. In a general sense, the Orthodox Church considers everything which is in and of the Church as sacramental or mystical.
The sacraments, like the Church, are both visible and invisible. In every sacrament there is a combination of an outward visible sign with an inward spiritual grace. Saint John Chrysostom wrote that they are called mysteries because what we believe is not the same as what we see; instead, we see one thing and believe another.
The sacraments are personal — they are the means whereby God’s grace is appropriated to each individual Christian. In most of the sacraments, the priest mentions the Christian name of each person as he administers the sacrament." (orthodoxwiki.org)
A sacrament is an outward, physical sign of an inward work that God is doing; that only God can do. Baptism is for remission of sins. Communion is Christ. Marriage is a picture of Christ and the Church. How is that possible??
What I realized tonight is that marriage was my first sacrament, my first belief in sacramental theology. I see quite clearly that no one, no one can live in marriage well. Some movie I saw once said; "We are all used car salesmen when it comes to love." And it's true. But I loved the beauty in this scripture so much that I believed; that I believe. I knew even as a teenager that it would take more of me than I have to be married. To my mind, for anyone to be married well would take strength, love, and grace from beyond oneself. But I do believe that two people can (and do) live together in sacramental, redemptive ways.
And so irony of all ironies, marriage has served me well. Always has. The phenomenon of marriage and the testimony about marriage has caused me to be the kind of person who "believe(s) as many as six impossible things before breakfast," like the Queen in Alice in Wonderland. (Wonderland is another place the led to a looking glass, much as tonight's conversation was.)
Marriage led me to sacrament, and for that, I will always be grateful to it.
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