About two years ago, I wrote Towards a Theology of Singleness, which is probably my most-read, most-shared pieces of writing ever. Well, it turns out I still think about the theology of singleness a lot, for much the same reasons: I’m still a single young man who thinks that it might be nice to be married some day.
That being said, something has changed, which is what leads me to write this follow-up to that past piece. Over the last six months or so I’ve experienced the first prolonged period in my adult life where I’m okay with being single. I mean, I’ve been able to talk a good theological talk about singleness since I read through the Bible the first time after coming to faith. But it’s always been something which, on some level, I’ve been trying to convince myself of. I’ve known that singleness is actually a good thing, but it sure as hell hasn’t felt like a good thing.
There’s primarily two things that have changed which have brought me to this place where being single actually feels like a good thing. My hope is that in sharing them, some of you might also find you feel more peace.
Before I get started, I want to address something. I think really following Jesus will often lead us to places where what we think simply doesn’t line up with the bedrock assumptions of our broader culture. This makes sense—Canada, the US, or any other country simply aren’t the Kingdom of God. So the more our beliefs and ways of interpreting the world come in line with the Kingdom, the more out of line they’ll be with our society. Moreover, the Christian subcultures in which we find ourselves aren’t the Kingdom of God. And so there will come a time when the truths Jesus is guiding us into will be out of line with the unquestioned assumptions of our Christian subculture. The more tightly these assumptions are held, the more people will be uncomfortable when we question or reject them.
I bring this up because I have become convinced that within my culture (and, I think most others) we have idolized (in the technical theological sense of the word) romance. In various Christian subcultures, this idol looks a bit different—it’s marriage which is worshipped, not romance, but that’s not (in this conversation, at least) an important difference.
When I say we idolize romance/marriage I mean nothing more or less than this: we sacrifice things upon its altar, in the expectation that it will do things for us which only God can do. This is, to put it mildly, a problem.
Now, hear me rightly: I don’t think marriage or romance are inherently bad, any more than money is (indeed, a good deal less so). But when we put them in the place of a god? Yeah, that’s bad. And this idolatry is so pervasive that it’s remarkably difficult to escape, even for those who are actively trying.
I’m not trying to condemn any given person. If you want to get married, I’m not saying that’s a bad desire! Just that it’s a bad god. If you’re married, and it’s good, awesome! If you’re married and it’s bad, I’m so sorry. I’m not trying to condemn any given person. Just...our entire society. And maybe every society ever.
So, here’s the first thing that’s changed in my life that’s led to me feeling okay about being single: The idea that Church is family has come to be true in my experience.
This theme is rampant across the New Testament: In John 1 we learn that whoever believes in the name of Jesus have the right to become children of God (and because of how families work brothers and sisters to one another). In Mark 3, we learn that Jesus considers whoever does the will of God to be his mother and brothers and sisters (and again, by extension, family to one another). In 1 Peter 2, the apostle writes that we who were not a people have been bound together into a people. In Ephesians 2, Paul tells us that God is building us together into the household (i.e. family) of God. In 1 Timothy 5, Paul tells timothy about how to lead a church—and he’s to do it as he would with a family. I could go on, but I think my point is made: at its core a church is a family, with God as the father and Jesus as the eldest brother.
I was raised by a single mother. She did a phenomenal job. Nonetheless, there’s some emotional baggage in my life as a function of not knowing my father. In the first year or so after coming to faith, I had a hard time referring to God as “Father.” After all, I like God; why would I use a word for Him which means “Unreliable, selfish, absent,” et cetera? The good news is I’m past that, having spent some serious time working through my fatherlessness issues, but in the past year or so, there’s been a pretty major breakthrough in my thinking about God as father. My Church have come to be brothers and sisters to me in a new way. This isn’t to say people in past Churches haven’t been wonderful to me (they really, really have), but the people at my Church love me in such a concrete, day-to-day way, and at the same time are committed to me. And if I know beyond a doubt that these are my brothers and sisters, the thing that must follow is that God, who is their father, is also mine. The idea that God has adopted us as His children is something that’s made concrete in my experience by the fact that my Church are my brothers and sisters.
This is made most clear in the case of one particular family. I’ve been friends with them for a long time, but these days we live just around the block from each other. Almost two years ago, they had their first child, and he is an absolute joy in my life. And they go out of their way to include me in their family—I can go to their place for dinner, they can ask me to watch the toddler while they run errands. I can help pick up a cake for a surprise party, they can drive me to the hospital.
There’s three things that make this relationship important in the context of me being a single person. The first is the concrete forms of care in the every day. Part of why we need family is for these simple day-to-day things. We need someone to pick us up from the airport, someone to check in on us when we’ve mentioned that we’re feeling pretty depressed, someone to help us move. The second is being valued. It’s important to the human psyche to know that you are precious to someone. The third is commitment. I know that these guys are going to be in my corner my whole life. I hope we’ll continue to live close to each other, but even if that changes, I know they’ve got me. I get to be part of the kid’s life as he grows up, I get to watch as he changes, and be part of him growing and learning.
When you live with your family, they’re the ones who care for you in the day-to-day, they love you deeply, and you know that (barring some tragedy) they’re committed to you for life. In our society, we’ve decided that the thing you do as you grow up is move away from your family. Is it any surprise then that people scramble desperately for a romantic partner? We need those small day-to-day experiences of care, we need someone to tell us that we matter to them, and we need committed relationships with people who we know will be there for us over the long haul. If we don’t have family, a partner or spouse is the logical place to look for that.
And that’s forgetting the other important things family offers—intergenerational relationships, for one. What’s been incredible in this season of my life is that I have that experience of family. I don’t need a romantic partner to meet those needs, I have the family of God.
Of course there are other desires that Church-as-family can’t meet (the obvious one being sex). But I cannot overstate the impact on my day-to-day emotional wellbeing that being part of a committed family makes.
The other big thing that’s changed is this: I’ve come to understand that marriage is costly. In his first letter to the Corinthian church, the apostle Paul wrote:
I want you to be free from anxieties. The unmarried man is anxious about the things of the Lord, how to please the Lord. But the married man is anxious about worldly things, how to please his wife, and his interests are divided. And the unmarried or betrothed woman is anxious about the things of the Lord, how to be holy in body and spirit. But the married woman is anxious about worldly things, how to please her husband.
(1 Corinthians 7:32-34, ESV)
In the past I have tended to read this passage in a judgemental tone. But a handful of things have happened in the last couple years. First: a lot of my friends have gotten married (this is, I think, just a function of being a Christian in his late twenties). Second, I moved back to Ottawa, and have been spending more time with my married friends.
In the past, when I’ve thought about the idea of marriage being costly, or I’ve talked to people or read about it, most of the reasons that get offered up for why singleness may be preferable have been...incredibly selfish. “You have more freedom,” “You don’t have someone checking up on you,” “Your life gets to be about what you want it to be.” Given the eccentricities of my personality, none of those are terribly motivating. More importantly, they aren’t the reasons Paul mentions. Instead, Paul talks about what people worry about—what their attention is on.
I find myself having some version of this conversation with my married friends pretty often: they’re telling me that their marriage is consuming a lot of their time, energy, and thought, and taking away from more explicit work of the Kingdom (working for stuff like evangelism, or discipleship, or justice). They feel guilty. I remind them that a healthy, loving family is a rare thing indeed. Growing up, I was pretty convinced that marriage was just bad. Most marriages I saw growing up either ended up in divorce or...should have. I saw spousal abuse happen around me. I saw loveless marriages. I saw divorce. I saw people who did not speak to their parents. This is the norm. And now that most of my friends are from middle class families, the only thing that’s changed is that people are better at hiding their familial brokenness (though I think this skill set serves them poorly). So I tell my friends, if you are able to love your spouse, if you are able to love you children, and if your family is a setting of mutual love, that is a frikkin’ miracle, and a powerful testimony to the love of God. It is good for those of you who are married to invest a lot of time and energy in your family.
And I mean every word of it.
That being said, maintaining a healthy marriage means you have less capacity and freedom to pursue the Kingdom of God in other ways. It’s a lot harder to suddenly move to another continent, especially if your spouse has a very different set of emotional and social needs than you. You need to make sure you spend good time with your spouse, which means less time to spend volunteering, or building meaningful relationships with people who don’t know Jesus. And this isn’t a small impact. Marriage will, for most people, mean the end of some of their Kingdom dreams.
Of course, marriage can also mean a beautiful partnership in the pursuit of God’s Kingdom. That’s what it’s supposed to mean, anyway. And that can be great! But the cost is real. And it’s not just a cost to your own selfish desires and preferences, it’s a cost to the Kingdom of God.
And let’s be real. I don’t know if I want to pay that cost. Maybe. It can be worth it. But...It’s a question.
So that’s what I’ve got. Church-as-family is real, and it’s great.
And marriage is costly, and I don’t actually know if I think it’s worth it.
These two realizations have done wonders for the peace I feel in my life as a single adult. I hope they might do the same for you.
I've have learnt that a lot of things in our lives are completely changed by the Gospel. For example life goals and directions are altered because of the reality of having Jesus and Lord in our lives.
So I've been thinking a lot about singleness lately. I wonder if I did not grow up thinking about marriage, about love and being brought up in a culture that idolises marriage would I have pursed singleness?
I also wonder that now that I'm am transformed by the Gospel can I loose my desire of being married and pursue singleness?
Paul says that he wishes that the Church of Corinth was single as he was as if it were a gift (1Cor 7:7). Jesus also said that there are some who choose to live like eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of God. If they can accept it then they should. (Matt 19:12).
One person whom I admire is my Aunt who is over 60, has never married and works for an orphanage paid by her church. Another person whom I have never met is John Chapman who passed away last year. He was single but at his funeral he had a pretty large family attending his service.
For now I think I will use my gifts to serve God and enjoy being content with my singleness while it lasts.
I have this bad habit of thinking about my future far too much. Not college, I haven't given a flick of thought to that, but marriage and children and where to serve in whatever way(s) I'm supposed to serve.
You see, I get so wrapped up in the next season of my life, I'm not living this season the way it aught to be lived. Right now, I need to be praising and praying non-stop, getting my heart in check with God, loving, loving, loving, loving, and be a reflection of His heart in this world.
It's obviously not the right time for me to be married, so I need to stop using all of my thought and energy dreaming about how wonderful it will be. It will be wonderful. It's just not time yet.
Right now is the time for singleness, and every great thing it beholds.
I need to be patient, and see what God has for my heart right now, not what he has in 4 or 5 years. I'll think about that in 4 or 5 year while I'm in that season!
