In defence
Affairs – Good for marriages?
19/06/08 11:49 |
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I came across an item
in the Telegraph newspaper reporting on a book
published in the States, When Good People Have
Affairs by
Mira Kirshenbaum.
The author argues that society has failed to have a sympathetic discussion of infidelity, and therefore the positive sides of cheating have been ignored. According to Kirshenbaum having an affair can be good for a marriage, but above all you must never admit it to your spouse, even when directly asked.
Her book is not aimed at “creeps” who think they can cheat with impunity, but at decent people who know they have made a mistake. “These people are suffering terribly and need to be relieved of their sense of guilt and shame because those emotions are paralysing,” she said.
It’s hard to know where to start with such an argument, but let’s shift it sideways for a moment. What if the above paragraphs had read:
The author argues that society has failed to have a sympathetic discussion of murder, and therefore the positive sides of murder have been ignored. Murder can be can be good for a society, weeding out the weak, the distasteful, and the vulnerable, leaving only the strong. “These murderers are suffering terribly and need to be relieved of their sense of guilt and shame because those emotions are paralysing”
It doesn’t work, does it? We’d never buy that argument. Ok, some would say the two things aren’t interchangeable, or even moral equivalents. But the reality is that her argument is based on post-event justification, rather than looking for any moral or ethical principles to guide us.
Let me highlight three other mistakes:
Kirshenbaum confuses the good which comes out of an event, with the good which justifies an event. It’s rather like saying, “I was drunk and crashed the car, severely injuring someone. But it put me off the drink for life. Therefore it’s ok to drink and drive—good might come out of it.”
She also writes off guilt as merely an emotion. This is short-term and ultimately unhelpful because guilt is much more than an emotion. It is more crushing than an emotion because it is tied to a reality. We did wrong—and that wrong needs to be addressed, not explained away. And to add to the guilt of infidelity the guilt of dishonesty is to pile up burdens that only eat away at us, or harden us into something callous and uncaring—neither of which is an attractive option.
A third mistake is that Kirshenbaum treats marriage as merely a social construct. The reality is that marriage is a picture of God’s never-fading, always faithful, unbreakable, never-dying love for his people. So when we dishonour marriage we are like vandals defacing what is meant to be a masterpiece. And God does not hold innocent those who do that. Guilt and shame are present because there is a God before whom we must stand, and neither Ms Kirshenbaum nor anyone can write off the guilt and shame that it is God’s prerogative to deal with. That is the height of arrogance.
And that leads to the real solution. The real solution is not to deny or hide the problem, but to bring it to God. Only he has the right and authority to forgive. And he has the power to bring healing and restoration to broken marriages.
The author argues that society has failed to have a sympathetic discussion of infidelity, and therefore the positive sides of cheating have been ignored. According to Kirshenbaum having an affair can be good for a marriage, but above all you must never admit it to your spouse, even when directly asked.
Her book is not aimed at “creeps” who think they can cheat with impunity, but at decent people who know they have made a mistake. “These people are suffering terribly and need to be relieved of their sense of guilt and shame because those emotions are paralysing,” she said.
It’s hard to know where to start with such an argument, but let’s shift it sideways for a moment. What if the above paragraphs had read:
The author argues that society has failed to have a sympathetic discussion of murder, and therefore the positive sides of murder have been ignored. Murder can be can be good for a society, weeding out the weak, the distasteful, and the vulnerable, leaving only the strong. “These murderers are suffering terribly and need to be relieved of their sense of guilt and shame because those emotions are paralysing”
It doesn’t work, does it? We’d never buy that argument. Ok, some would say the two things aren’t interchangeable, or even moral equivalents. But the reality is that her argument is based on post-event justification, rather than looking for any moral or ethical principles to guide us.
Let me highlight three other mistakes:
Kirshenbaum confuses the good which comes out of an event, with the good which justifies an event. It’s rather like saying, “I was drunk and crashed the car, severely injuring someone. But it put me off the drink for life. Therefore it’s ok to drink and drive—good might come out of it.”
She also writes off guilt as merely an emotion. This is short-term and ultimately unhelpful because guilt is much more than an emotion. It is more crushing than an emotion because it is tied to a reality. We did wrong—and that wrong needs to be addressed, not explained away. And to add to the guilt of infidelity the guilt of dishonesty is to pile up burdens that only eat away at us, or harden us into something callous and uncaring—neither of which is an attractive option.
A third mistake is that Kirshenbaum treats marriage as merely a social construct. The reality is that marriage is a picture of God’s never-fading, always faithful, unbreakable, never-dying love for his people. So when we dishonour marriage we are like vandals defacing what is meant to be a masterpiece. And God does not hold innocent those who do that. Guilt and shame are present because there is a God before whom we must stand, and neither Ms Kirshenbaum nor anyone can write off the guilt and shame that it is God’s prerogative to deal with. That is the height of arrogance.
And that leads to the real solution. The real solution is not to deny or hide the problem, but to bring it to God. Only he has the right and authority to forgive. And he has the power to bring healing and restoration to broken marriages.
Mountain Climbing
14/09/07 11:15 |
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Someone said to me the other day about the different
religions, “We’re all just taking different paths up
the same mountain.” It sounds profound, it sounds
magnanimous – but is it the case?
What if the mountain is too high for any man to ascend? What if it is too steep? If that’s the case what’s the use of religion? A moment’s reflection will show that the mountain must indeed to be too high – if we are seeking to be acceptable to God, and God is perfect, how then can we who aren’t perfect be acceptable to a perfect God? The mountain is just too steep.
But what if God isn’t at the top of the mountain? What if God came down the mountain so we wouldn’t have to climb? Well that would change everything, wouldn’t it? No point climbing if there is a much easier route. No point in climbing, because the further we climb, the further from God we get!
That’s exactly what the Bible teaches.
Real Christianity isn’t about trying to climb the mountain to God; real Christianity is about God coming down to us. That’s what Jesus was doing on the cross – paying for our sins so that we wouldn’t have to. We need to turn from our own efforts and turn to Jesus, and put our trust in him to make us acceptable.
Poetry isn’t my particular thing, but I came across this poem that sums it all up:
O long and dark the stairs I trod
With trembling feet to find my God,
Gaining a foothold bit by bit,
Then slipping back and losing it.
Never progressing; striving still
With weakened grasp and faltering will,
Bleeding to climb to God, while He
Seemed not to notice me.
Then came a certain time when I
Loosened my hold and fell thereby;
Down to the lowest step my fall,
As if I had not climbed at all.
And as I lay despairing there,
Listen.... a footfall on the stair,
On that same stair where I afraid,
Fumbled and fell and lay dismayed.
And lo, when hope had ceased to be,
My God came down the stairs to me.
Religions may be about climbing mountains to find God, but Christianity is about God climbing down to find us.
What if the mountain is too high for any man to ascend? What if it is too steep? If that’s the case what’s the use of religion? A moment’s reflection will show that the mountain must indeed to be too high – if we are seeking to be acceptable to God, and God is perfect, how then can we who aren’t perfect be acceptable to a perfect God? The mountain is just too steep.
But what if God isn’t at the top of the mountain? What if God came down the mountain so we wouldn’t have to climb? Well that would change everything, wouldn’t it? No point climbing if there is a much easier route. No point in climbing, because the further we climb, the further from God we get!
That’s exactly what the Bible teaches.
Real Christianity isn’t about trying to climb the mountain to God; real Christianity is about God coming down to us. That’s what Jesus was doing on the cross – paying for our sins so that we wouldn’t have to. We need to turn from our own efforts and turn to Jesus, and put our trust in him to make us acceptable.
Poetry isn’t my particular thing, but I came across this poem that sums it all up:
O long and dark the stairs I trod
With trembling feet to find my God,
Gaining a foothold bit by bit,
Then slipping back and losing it.
Never progressing; striving still
With weakened grasp and faltering will,
Bleeding to climb to God, while He
Seemed not to notice me.
Then came a certain time when I
Loosened my hold and fell thereby;
Down to the lowest step my fall,
As if I had not climbed at all.
And as I lay despairing there,
Listen.... a footfall on the stair,
On that same stair where I afraid,
Fumbled and fell and lay dismayed.
And lo, when hope had ceased to be,
My God came down the stairs to me.
Religions may be about climbing mountains to find God, but Christianity is about God climbing down to find us.