Brain trust: how to prepare local churches for the coming Gaystapo

by Dan Phillips

The "Gaystapo" is on the march. We're where we are thanks to years of rampant relativism, the gospel of "follow your heart," postmodernism, and Christianoid defection and/or timidity. Any day we may find it knocking at the door of our church, no matter where we are. That this is just one tentacle on an octopus of rebellion against God is beside our point, which (as is my wont here) is very focused.

I mean to pose to you the question I find surprisingly absent from the blogs I'd expect to take lead on it:

what language do we need to put 
in our church Constitutions 

to proof us (to any degree) against lawsuits?

I don't ask in the interest of evading all persecution. I think that's coming, and Christians shouldn't be surprised. But I would sure like to spare churches the waste of thousands of dollars and hundreds of hours each frivolous lawsuit, even the "successful" ones, always mean.

So here's what I want from you:

1. Not just "I think" and "we probably oughta" and "gee I don't know."
2. But either (A) link us to an online Constitution that actually has included such language, or (B) refer us to an online article giving useful and specific direction, or (C) transcribe for us what your church's constitution has included.

We're being told we'd better prepare, we'd better put in in our Constitutions. Probably so. Using what words?

This topic is vital to faithful churches across the land. So let's see what we can do, to serve local churches of Christ.

Contribute if you have it to give, or get out the word.

UPDATE: m'man Denny Burk, who has been doing some first-rate, very helpful writing in these areas, has responded with pointers to very helpful resources. If Denny's blog isn't a regular stop for you, I commend you make it so.

---

We scarpered

by Dan Phillips

My dear wife and I celebrated our wedding anniversary yesterday (I write proleptically, so with a "DV" attached). This year, we ran away! We headed off Wednesday to some not-too-far-off part of unexplored Texas — "unexplored" could describe about 99.9% of it, in our case — for a brief anniversary getaway. We're headed back today.

So no SHST today. Instead, in keeping with the theme, you could listen to the Sunday School series I taught on marriage. Or you could read the first blog post I ever published.

See you next week, or in church, whichever comes first.

---

Dear single Christian sister

by Dan Phillips

Dear single Christian sister,

Probably you, like most single Christians, dream of getting married. Your ideas of marital bliss are fed by the high regard the Bible holds for the institution, by your friends, and probably by your church culture. It's easy to feel like the "odd man (or woman) out" in a church built around the assumption that most or all of its members — or, at least, the ones who count — are married.

But I wanted to be a good brother to you and put some thoughts before you that any Christian who loves and cares for you would want you to consider. I'll be brief and pointed; my aim isn't to detain you, but to help you, and perhaps even to save you a great deal of heartache. So here are cautionary thoughts on marriage:

First, there are worse things than dying a virgin. That I even have to say this is a reflection of our culture, most of whom would hoot with derision at the suggestion. But as Christians, while we see marriage as a sacred and blessed institution, and a wonderful opportunity to serve and glorify God, we should know better (1 Cor. 10:31). Paul either never married, or was unmarried through his apostolic labors. Wouldn't you agree that he had a meaningful life? He saw singleness as having its own advantages for the service of God (1 Cor. 7:7-8, 32-35).

"But I want to get married!" you say? That's absolutely fine, and I say "go for it." But I also say "—don't go for it at all costs." Remember: there are worse things than being single.

Second, you don't owe marriage to any man you're not married to. What seems obvious to you may not be obvious to all, so I stress this: perhaps you've been dating for a year, seven years, whatever; perhaps you've talked about this and that. Perhaps you know he's got his heart set on marrying you, and he's counting on it. Yet, if you haven't married him, you needn't marry him. Particularly if one of the next considerations persuades you that it'd be unwise.

Third, master everything the Bible says about marriage, particularly about the wife's obligations. Study Genesis 1—2, 1 Corinthians 7, Ephesians 5, 1 Peter 3, all the passages. I'd recommend to you my series on marriage, where I try to help single (and married) people to do just that. Also use chapter seven, "Skill in Godly Marriage," in my book on Proverbs.

"But I'm not even engaged yet," you say? Perfect! There is no more strategically-vital time to get this understood. Because once you are married to a man, you are morally obligated before God to perform and be everything the Bible calls you to do and be, to do so heartily as unto the Lord, and to do so as long as you are married. You are obligated to respect him from the heart (not just externally), to subordinate yourself to his leadership, and to back his plays unless doing so requires you to sin. You are obliged to do all this if he turns out to be a wise, godly, loving, caring saint; and you are equally obliged if he turns out to be a fickle, surly, selfish, childish, uncaring, hypocritical jerk.

"Yikes," you say. "You're scaring me." Terrific. I mean to. See #1, above.

This leads me to...

Fourth, if he wasn't already showing a years-long pattern of Christian commitment and involvement in a local church you could gladly attend before you met him, you probably shouldn't marry him. I say "probably" because there will be exceptions — but be very slow to claim to have found one.

What I mean is: do they all know him at his church? Has he served, faithfully and a lot? (Best training for being a leader is being a follower.) Has he invested his greater energy and free time as a single to serve to further the ministry of the church and help the needy within it?

Does the pastor know him well? Would he vouch for this man? Is your fella a once-a-week-at-best-skimmer, barely known or unknown to most of the pillars and doers, or is he deeply committed and involved? Has he read his Bible through? Can he explain the Gospel well, from the Bible? Ask him to read TWTG, and tell you his thoughts — you'll be able to tell a lot by that (his view of the nature of God, of man, of Christ, of the Gospel, of the sovereignty of God, of sanctification; his worldview, etc.). Can he explain his own convictions and values and aspirations in Biblical terms — that is, does he show signs that he's gotten it from Scripture, or vetted it by Scripture, before he set his heart on it?

Can he demonstrate the ability to think things through, and make decisions, Biblically?

You see, this man is going to be making the decisions for your family. If he's wise and godly, you'll get truckloads of input — but the final call will be his. You will need not only to accept his final decision, but to dive in and do your best to make it work. Under God, your life will hang on his judgment. Can you trust him? With the rest of your life, and with your children's lives, can you trust him?

Now you see my point.

(If you and he attend different churches, be sure to let your pastor meet and get to know him, interrogate him, put him under the hot white lights. He's the man who has care for your soul, so he will be motivated to care for you and go the extra mile to be sure you're making as wise a decision as a person can make.)

Now, if we're talking about a man who is not a Christian at all, then he's not even a candidate, and you shouldn't be involved with him anywhere near this level, for his sake and yours.

But if he says he's a Christian but isn't much involved in a local church, then he doesn't much have the heart of Christ. Particularly if he's got "reasons" and excuses and rationales, he's not the man for you. He doesn't follow Christ. And you want obligate yourself to follow him?

"But he says he's a Christian!" one might sob. Yes, sister, if he's interested in you and knows you have this Jesus-thingie going on, I'm sure he does. I could train a parakeet to say he's a Christian. In fact, I've known parakeets who would make better Christians than some of the guys who've assured their girlfriends that they're Christians until they got what they wanted. It's just words. I could say I'm a MMA champion. Talk's cheap.

I just gave you ways to weigh that talk, and that's what you really need to do.

Remember, dating is the selling phase. All the best is put on display, to sink the deal. You should assume that marriage will not instantly make him a better man. If he is godly, it will; but you need to be convinced of that now. I can't tell you how many heart-wrenching stories I've heard about men who made this and that religious gesture, and then once the trout is in the creel, everything changes.

If you're a believer in Christ, you're a precious treasure to God, and your life is a stewardship. You need to make this decision slowly and carefully. If I may indulge my imagination in order to engage yours, your unborn kids are begging you to pick their dad v-e-r-y  c-a-r-e-f-u-l-l-y.

Too much is at stake to risk everything on a maybe-sorta lip-service until-the-deal-is-closed-and-the-deed-is-done sort of "Christian" male.

There are plenty of good godly men out there. Why haven't you seen them? They're probably going to smaller churches than your mega-church, because they prize Biblical preaching and look for opportunities to serve, and not simply be served. That's the sort of man you want to join yourself to in marriage.

Don't settle. Really, truly: don't. You'll be so sorry, and I'll be so sad.

PostScript: for the "But I know someone who [did a really stupid, un-Biblical, lamebrained thing] and it turned out just fine!" retort, see the "Real-Live Final Thought" at the end of this.

---

When "I tried that" is a problem

by Dan Phillips

[NOTE: to avoid having to fiddle with pronouns, I'll use the standard generic "he"/"his"/"him" throughout.]

Hearing a person in a troubled marriage say "I tried _____" raises a red flag of concern to me.

Why? Surely all the person is doing is sharing his frustration, his disappointment, his hurt. It isn't necessarily a claim of self-righteousness, or an attempt to build a case against his wife. He isn't necessarily trying to make me think he's the good guy, and she's the bad evil vixen. Oh, it can be any or all of those things; but not necessarily.


So I will of course start talking about ways to implement what Scripture says to do, and he will say, "I tried that."

And that's a problem.

How? How can "I tried X" a problem? If a doctor said "Take two ibuprofen" or "Have a hot bath," and the patient had already done so without any relief, wouldn't "I tried that" be the perfect answer? Isn't it both honest and diagnostically helpful?

In this case, no. It is helpful, but it is not a good sign. It is helpful, in that I've come to see it often as a clue to how the person approaches marriage, and his role in it.

Here's the reality: as I remarked more times than I can count when teaching on the Biblical doctrine of marriage,

"Marriage is like being a Christian
 — only more so." 

In other words, everything I am called to be as a Christian, I am called to be in my marriage. I am called as a Christian to love, to be patient and longsuffering, to be gracious and kind, to be ready to forgive, to be devoted to serve the other for his good. I'm called to seek to embody these graces towards all.

But in just about every relationship I have, if tension arises, I can walk away. I can go home, I can go to bed, I can get distance from the locus of the tension. For that matter, I could move to the other side of the globe from it. And I'm not called by God to be everyone's close friend. It isn't a moral obligation.

None of which is true with marriage.

With marriage, I have all the same obligations, and more — and it's 24/7/365, it's right up there in my face, and I can't simply walk away if it gets rough.

But go back to other relationships. What is God's command to us, for those relationships? Are we called to "try" loving each other? Then, if it doesn't work, we stop, complain, do something else instead? Are we called to "try" being patient, kind, devoted to their good? How about our relationship with God? Are we to "try" holiness, see if it works for us or not? Righteousness? Faith?

You all know the answer: "Of course not." These aren't methods offered to us on a trial-basis, for us to test-drive and evaluate, then reject or embrace depending on outcome. It's not a negotiation. These attitudes and actions are our lives, as Christians. We're called to grow this fruit, period (Gal. 5:22-23). If Paul could say there is no law against such graces (Gal. 5:23b), he could not say there is no law calling for them. This is what we are called to be, not to "try."

So: God doesn't call me to "try" loving my wife as Christ loved the church as a tactic. He doesn't call me to run it up the flagpole and see if anyone salutes. He doesn't invite me to see how that whole love-my-wife-like-Christ business works out, then to keep it up or drop it, depending on whether it "works." He doesn't call spouses to try not gossiping and complaining about each other. He doesn't call wives to try being respectful and submissive, any more than He calls children to try honoring their parents — or believing in Christ.

And so I say it is a red flag, because I've found that it often is a symptom. It may indicate that the spouse holds as the paramount value — not glorifying God and enjoying Him forever, but — being treated as he believes he deserves. That is the first and great unwritten commandment. So when his wife doesn't treat him as he deserves, that's wrong. She needs to change. But she doesn't want to. How to get her to change?

Well, he could try various things. He might yell at her. Or he might freeze her out. Or he might ignore her. Or he might talk her down to others.

Or, if he's really pious, he might "try" loving her.

See what I did there? The objective is to get her to behave right. (And, for the record, she should: she should love him and honor him, and do her best to make him glad he's married to her.) In pursuit of that objective, he tries various things. This tactic, that tactic... God's commands might even be among those things he tries — in pursuit of his objective: getting her to treat him right.

So here comes the obvious rub. What if it "doesn't work"? What if she's still a merciless shrew? Well, he tried, you see? It didn't work. So he has to try something else. Like complaining about her to everyone who will listen. Like self-pity. Like growing increasingly bitter and resentful. Like wearing the martyr's robes for everyone to see. Like trying to get kids and friends to see her as he does, see how bad she is and how nobly he suffers.

Suppose, though, he realized that being a Christian who actually practices what he professes — which is, after all, what we're talking about, right? — isn't something you "try." It's something you do, come what may, and God helping you, you don't let all the powers of Hell stop you. Much less a grumpy, sharp-tongued, ungrateful spouse.

What then, when his wife responds to his love with contempt, scorn, or even abuse? What if his coming close to love and serve her just gives her a better and crueller shot at him? What then?

Let me ask you: Does the Bible say anything about how Christians should respond to verbal abuse? To ingratitude? To false accusations? Anything in there at all? Anything? Bueller?

I'll wait for the light-bulbs to finish flashing on.

See, marriage in that regard is not  a different category of life, as if I need to treat other people by unchanging standards, but my wife is different. It isn't as if I have 66 books of direction for all my relationships, but only a few chapters that apply to relating to my wife. She's only different in that she will always be there for me to practice these graces, and I can't walk away if it gets rough.

Because being married is like being a Christian.

Only more so.

And in that life, what gets "tried" is us and our faith (1 Peter 1:7) — not God's commands.

---

Book review — The Masculine Mandate, by Richard D. Phillips

by Dan Phillips

The Masculine Mandate, by Richard D. Phillips

(Harrisonburg: Reformation Trust Publishing, 2010; 174 pages)

As I began teaching a 30-week course on marriage and the Bible, it was with some apprehension.

Any reader could pitch a number of accurate guesses as to reasons for that feeling, but the specific niggle was this: what is Biblical manhood — specifically, malehood? How do you textually ground and express the specific difference between God's intent in creating male human beings?

I had read a number of books and articles, and they hadn't helped much. Most of them simply gave popular opinions — popular evangelicaloid opinions — without much bothering to ground them directly in Scripture. Others were some fun, but in the final analysis just nuts. One had a lot of Bible — but it was almost all irrelevant. For instance, it went on and on about what Genesis 1:26-28 teaches us about being a man. The problem? Just read it. "Male and female." Oopsie. Is that the best we can do?

Then came this book by Richard Phillips (no relation, except in Christ), and it flicked the switch for me.

In a very solid, very readable, very Biblical, very theological, very engaging, and very practical way, Phillips leads us to Genesis 2 which, after all, is the narrative of the creation of the first male, in distinction from the creation of the first female. Phillips focuses on and develops Genesis 2:7, 8, and 15. Man's distinctive, pre-Eve task: to work and to keep the garden (8). These are expressed in service and leadership (9).

Phillips develops work as meaning "to cultivate as a gardener" (12ff.), and keep as "to protect as a sword-bearer" (14ff.). He then unfolds these ideas in the categories of man's calling to work (17ff.), man as the image of God (31ff.), and man as shepherd-lord (43ff.). These all focus on the conceptual aspect, getting the ideas Scripturally validated and illustrated.

Then Phillips turns to the practical application, with three chapters on marriage, two on training children, and one each on men in friendship, in the church, and as servants of the Lord.

This was one of those books that just turned on the floodlights for me. I took Phillips' basic idea, and went at the text hammer and tongs. I found in the Hebrew text and context even more clues, verification, and opening of the ideas, thanks to the fundamental pointer Phillips had given me. From what I found, I could probably write another book complementary (see what I did there?) to Phillips' My development of these ideas particularly began with session 23, and went on for several additional studies.

At the end comes a section of questions for reflection and discussion, making the book usable for group-studies; as well as indices of Scripture, subjects, and names. Unfortunately, endnotes also come at the back of the book, a reall bad decision on the publisher's part that is a disservice both to author and reader.

This is just a really terrific book. I don't for the life of me know why it isn't better-known and more widely-discussed. Instead of Driscoll, big Gospel sites ought to be promoting Phillips. I don't know another book that does what Richard Phillips does here at all, let alone so well.

I recommend it to everyone: boys/men/husbands/fathers/pastors, for obvious reasons; girls/single ladies to know what to look for in a man; moms to know how to raise their boys.

Get, read, review, recommend.

UPDATE: I just got word that the book will be on sale for $5 this Friday, November 29, via Ligonier's Black Friday sale.

---

How not to grow: marriage edition

by Dan Phillips

In my ongoing series on marriage, the Bible, and you, I came to a point of pivot recently. Having laid the foundation somewhat extensively, I'd just taught for several classes with a focus on singles approaching marriage, and considering how even to make the decision. Now I was about to turn to address wives, then husbands, with specific Scriptural teaching.

So in turning to this section I felt it important to lay down some ground-rule guidelines dealing with how to listen to the classes to come. After all, first husbands would be listening to a series of lessons focusing on their wives; then those roles would reverse. So in preparing for that, I expounded a preventative list of ways to prevent spiritual growth. Here's that list:

1.        Focus on what your spouse is doing wrong (Rom. 14:10-12; 2 Cor. 5:10)

2.        Make your obedience to Christ depend on his/hers (cf. Gen. 3:11-12)

3.        Keep the focus on statistic equality (previous Scriptures; cf. Prov. 28:13)

4.        Isolate marriage from the rest of your Christian life (1 Cor. 10:31)

5.        Be a fool (Prov. 9:7-8; 10:17; 12:1, 15; 17:10; 29:1)

And here's the class.

---

Homosexual "marriage": Debating a plate of animated spaghetti

by Dan Phillips

If I wanted to attend a doctoral-level course in gracious patience, I would want it to be taught either by Doug Wilson, or Thabiti Anyabwile. (Happily for us, both are beginning a public dialogue on race and slavery; more on that another time, perhaps.)

As to Doug, whenever I've seen him in debate, he's the soul of unflappable patience. This quality is on display in his, er, "debate" with Andrew Sullivan. Now, you'll note I didn't hypertextualize that as is usual in blogs. That's because I do want to issue a warning: I don't particularly recommend that you listen to it. It is painful listening. Most times the case for homosexual "marriage" is given voice here, and every time the audience gives voice, you can feel IQ points gushing out your ears. In my case, I don't have them to spare, so it was less fun than a colonoscopy.

But if you insist, or if you may figure into the public debate on homosexual "marriage," you've been warned: here y'go. Don't blame me.

My purpose isn't to analyze the entire debate, though I'll throw out my impressions. Others have offered post mortems. I would say that Doug Wilson won the debate in terms of graciousness and providing anything resembling a rational case. But... and I can't tell you how reluctant I am to say this... I don't think he won the day. I found myself extremely reluctantly agreeing with Sullivan (ow, that hurt) that Wilson should not have kept  his positive case for his position for the end of the debate. I think he needed a stronger case.

I have to rush to clarify that I am not saying, implying nor thinking "I would have done a better job." I just found myself wishing that Wilson had. But in that Wilson eloquently posed and insisted on an unanswerable question that is rationally devastating for Sullivan's position ("Any argument for your demand that we call homosexual pairings 'marriage' equally validates polygamy"), he scored a body-blow. Also, he kept raising the central "By what standard?" question. And I love that Doug preached the Gospel.

But it's taken a half-dozen graphs to come to my point: I fear Wilson was in an unwinnable situation. He was debating almost sheer emotion, a flood of emotional purging and manipulation. Almost all Sullivan had was (literal) sob-stories, emotion, and untrammeled subjective self-reporting. Witness this fact: with great emphasis and gravity, Sullivan insisted, "Believe me, I have deeply searched my conscience and my heart" — adducing it as if it were the trump-card, the final winning argument. As if it were, in fact, an argument at all. And both he and the audience clearly felt that all this was more than sufficient, while Wilson's emotionally cool responses fell far short of resonating or convincing.

Bringing us to our question: How do you counter that? How do you respond to a mess, to a pile, to a plate of animated spaghetti?

To be clear: I refer to Sullivan's argument; not to Sullivan. Andrew Sullivan is a bright man, articulate and passionate and emotionally very evocative. I refer to his position, his case, his presentation. In terms of truth and content and logic, it's a disaster, an absolute trainwreck. Wouldn't matter if it were enunciated by Buckley or Plato or Shakespeare: it's a mess.

Sullivan insistently repeats a case that I'll paraphrase thus:

"I am a Christian, God made me this way, God loves me as I am. I am happy the way I am, this is my identity. I have hopes and dreams. I am a victim. When I told my father I was a homosexual, he wept and wept [voice breaking]... because of all the suffering he knew I'd been through without his help. So now why do you want to deny me of personhood, of my hopes, of my future, when my God accepts me and wants me to be happy? Why do you want to persecute me and rob me of fundamental rights that you enjoy, that everyone should have — just like people such as you did to blacks, to slaves? Shouldn't I be able to love and live and have hopes and dreams? Aren't I as worthy as anyone? Besides, look at divorced straights. Why do you want to condemn me to misery and hopeless despair and promiscuous irresponsibility and government assistance?"

I know exactly what most of you are thinking. You're thinking the same as I. You want to dive in on the first statement ("I am a Christian"), and dismantle it. Then proceed to the next ("God made me this way"), and then the next and the next and the next...

And in so doing, we come off as uncaring, loveless automatons, religious bigots, the whole nine.

Maybe that's just the way it has to be. Someone has to be the adult in the room. God's truth mustn't, shouldn't and can't be flushed just because it "won't work." But is it simply a doomed enterprise?

It may be. The wise man says, "When a wise man has a controversy with a foolish man, The foolish man either rages or laughs, and there is no rest" (Prov. 29:9). One thinks of this often, listening to the Wilson/Sullivan debate. The wise man is "cool," while the fool is molten passion.

Is the key in the famous paradox of Proverbs 26?

4 Answer not a fool according to his folly, lest you be like him yourself.
5 Answer a fool according to his folly, lest he be wise in his own eyes.

How would that work, in this debate? The entire case for homosexual "marriage" rests on the narcissism that drives our culture: affectio ergo sum, "I feel, therefore I am." We see it in the constant cry, "You must follow your heart." Well, the homosexual's heart tells him all sorts of things. As did Ghandi's. As did Hitler's. As did David Livingstone's. As does the rapist's, the philanthropist's, the child molestor's, the neurosurgeon's. As does yours. As does mine. (This is why in our day any explanation of Christ's true saving Gospel has to involve exposing our culture's false gospel at some length.)

So again I ask: how do we respond to sheer verbalized emotion that fixes on facts and logical arguments like a caddisfly larva does with gravel and twigs? Do we construct a rational argument expressed in emotional terms? How would that go? Like this?

I care very much about the miseries felt by homosexuals. Nobody should live in despair and hopelessness, or be cruelly oppressed. But is giving someone what he asks for always the most loving thing? Here is an addict. All he wants is more meth, more heroin. Shall I give it to him? He will tell me that he needs it, that he is miserable without it. He will tell me that it makes life hurt less, makes him happy. If I withhold the drug, he will be angry with me, he will be in pain... but would I not be more loving? After all, I know that every use moves him closer to illness and death and ruin.

Or again, consider the young man who just doesn't want to get a job. He wants me to support him. He doesn't feel like working. I have enough; aren't I obliged? If he doesn't work, he'll be unclothed, unfed, and eventually homeless.

Or here's the fat person. He hates being fat, he hates being called "fat." He implores me to call him "thin, lean and buff." He would feel so much better if I would just call him "thin, lean and buff." Why won't I? Why won't I give him what he wants? Doesn't he have the right to be happy just like everyone else, just like all the actually thin, lean and buff people? Is it unloving of me to refuse his request? Does my refusal cause him pain?

But is pain always bad and unloving? Aren't those pains motivators? Aren't they built into the universe by God to say in effect, "This is no way to live. There is a better way"? And is it not possible that the pains and frustrations of the homosexual are of the same sort — and that if we remove each obstacle, we are only speeding him towards self-destruction?

I want an answer that is loving, compassionate, and true. The only way to answer those questions is if I have an authority that is itself the epitomy of love, compassion, and truth.

Which I do. So let me explain:... 

Would that move us forward?

One problem: it isn't a secular argument.

So should we simply abandon secular arguments? Is this the watershed issue that shows our culture how bankrupt the path of autonomous narcissistic secularism really is? When (Sullivan to the contrary notwithstanding) the pedophiles and incestuous and polygamous who now cheer the "gay" "marriage" crowd knock at the door for their entrance using the same emotionalism, and we find ourselves fresh out of responses?

As a card-carrying Pyromaniac, I don't much like ending with a question. But there it is.

---

Doug Wilson bears witness to Andrew Sullivan; plus an aside on passion

by Dan Phillips

Please sit down, for your own safety.

We open with a Startling Insight that (I say, intending very little snark) a surprising number of people don't seem to grasp: I preach to be heard, and write to be read.

Yessir, there it is. As you know, unless this is your first visit (Welcome!), we here at Pyro write from deep conviction. "We" includes me. When it's about any of the issues of the day and not mere trivia, what I preach and write comes from 40 years of seeking the Lord, seeking to know Him and walk with Him and be of fruitful service to Him. This desire was born in my heart literally the day He saved me, and what you're reading right now is a fruit of that.

That being the case, probably like most sane males, I do what I do aiming at an impact. I neither preach nor write solely to amuse nor please myself (though there is the Jer. 20:9 factor). Writing to no readers, preaching to no hearers, would be the sound of one-hand-clapping, an exercise in futility.

So I preach and write because I'm convicted that I'm communicating some portion of God's truth. This rests on the deeper conviction that nothing matters more than God's truth. Put them together and you have the driving imperative that's moved me for forty years: to know Him and make Him known. To study, do, and teach (cf. Ezra 7:10; 1 Tim. 3:1).

That said, I was very grateful to God that so many found last week's thoughts on Gen. 1:1 to be true and useful, and expressed their desire to put it to use.  (See, there it is again: true, useful, used; there's my aim.) I always smiled when folks asked my permission (!) to make use of it; and I always said "Yes, thank you, please do! That's exactly why I write this stuff: to glorify God, to inform and instruct and equip and arm His people. When you take what I give and use it, I'm a happy man."

Many gracious and kind readers and Tweeters and others echoed the word of the post, to my grateful surprise. Among their number were Challies and the TGC home page. To say that none of this ruined my day would be sheer litotes.

And so it was a pleasure to see Doug Wilson also tweet kindly about the post. Then to my even greater surprised gratitude, a reader pointed out that Wilson elected to make use of the post in his debate with Andrew Sullivan about homosexual "marriage." And  so he did:

(You can get the whole deal right here.)

Now, I suppose that, were I a Big Name, I'd strike a jaded pose, sniff indiffferently, murmur "Quite," and reach for another pinch of snuff — as if this happens every day, and is only what one should expect.

But I won't. Why not? See above. When I Tweet something I feel deeply is vital, maybe I get a few, or if I'm "lucky" a dozen retweets. When Doug Wilson Tweeted about my post, he got 76 retweets and 56 "Favorites." The mentions on TGC and Challies drove our traffic up to 8-10X its already-generous normal rate.

Why do I care about that? Again, see above. That's why.

It's a funny thing; when I do something I care deeply about, and then share it, or share others' appreciation, some unkindly sneer that it's "self-promotion." Yet when John Piper and others constantly Tweet about their talks, conferences and articles, I don't see the same. Why not? Because we know Piper's very passionate about his message, and because most of us are glad to know about what he's doing.

Yet John Piper (unlike most of us) has his own instant-promotion machinery. He doesn't need to promote his work. So why don't we accuse him, who doesn't need to promote his work, of self-promotion? Because we know why he's doing it. He is completely sold out for his message, and he wants everyone to hear it. To which we say, "Amen, me too."

In that way, I'm no different... except for not having the built-in megaphone Piper has. So I have to work harder to get out the word I care about so dearly.

That being the case, I really have a special place in my heart for anyone who does what he can to use his own means to share the message I'm trying to broadcast.

Bringing me back to Doug Wilson.

I confess, not for the first time, that I don't completely "get" Doug Wilson. I haven't made a study of him. I know there are some areas where we absolutely do not agree: his postmillennialism, his baby-sprinkling, some of what he says about how parenting. Then in other areas, I just don't think I yet understand where he's coming from. But thirdly, in other areas, I think I do get him, and agree, and in those areas Wilson is absolutely brilliant. He expresses the truths I adore in simply sparkling, exquisite terms. I have used his insight (down to the very wording) again and again, usually with credit.

Now think a bit further. I say that to say this. If I were to use the cool hipster term I despise — "tribe" (eugggh)  — Wilson's not exactly my "tribe." When my first book came out, many other highly-visible folks one might see as being more in my "tribe" opted not even to publicly acknowledge its existence. Yet at that time, Doug Wilson was kind enough to reach across "tribal" boundaries to pick it as his first book of the month, and recommend it heartily. That I wasn't an A-lister like Wilson, nor a dead-center member of his "tribe," didn't stop him. He shared my passion about the message, and used his megaphone to commend it to others.

Why did I care? Well, of course, first, because it was simply kind and gracious of Wilson. Also, it gave me some insight to what Wilson must see as the Gospel, if he thinks that book represents it faithfully.

But, again, why did I care?

Once last time, see above. Wilson took the book in which I pulled out every stop and gave everything I had to give to convey a message I was and am dead-earnest about and wholly devoted to, and he raised its visibility. By doing so, Wilson used the platform God had given him to assure that others who otherwise would not have heard of the book would give it a look and PUT IT TO USE.

For that, I'll always be grateful; and this use vis-a-vis Andrew Sullivan is yet another example.

And then there's this bonus. Andrew Sullivan hears the name "Dan Phillips," and thinks... "Who?"

What's not fun about that?

---

Coda on the marriage doublets

by Dan Phillips

Last week I put up Marriage: a tale of paired assertions. Many of the comments it engendered were afield from my point to varying degrees, but even most of them had value of their own. It was a good discussion.

I'm adding a brief afterword to make my main point clear. It was:

1. Both of the assertions communicated Biblical truth. However
2. In each case, virtually always it is only the first assertion that is said, repeated, stressed, emphasized, and hammered home. And...
3. I think that's because a number of public Christians are, to some degree, cowards.

It's just been hitting me over and over again: public Christians often just seem to be plain embarrassed by this Jesus who I do believe they largely love and revere. They'll stand foursquare with Him on some issues, but on others they're fairly easily cowed into silence, or at least mumbly equivocation.

Marriage and the relations of the sexes is certainly such an issue. Paul never seemed to be the least embarrassed to speak for Christ on the issue, any more than Peter did. Yet their modern expositors are less full-blooded, and more apologetic — meaning "apologetic" in the sense of "I'm so sorry!", not  "Here I stand, and here's why." We all know that some people will harass us and cast out our name as evil if we agree with God on this issue, out loud; but we're supposed to be prepared for this. In fact, we should expect it!

Yet I think on the issue of marriage, many public Christians have been less helpful than they can be. I mean, if you agree that the real problem always and everywhere is men, and the real solution is shaming them into being more ladylike, then I guess they're doing a great job. But if you think that the real problem always and everywhere is sin, and the real solution is Christ, who is known through repentance, faith and obedience, then they're coming a bit short here and there.

So today the ritual dance is that if a man even will agree out loud about women being morally obligated to subordinate themselves to their husbands, he must immediately hurry to qualify the whole idea almost out of existence. Yet when he calls men to sexual fidelity and love for their wives (which is taught in Scripture neither less clearly nor more clearly than the other), there are no such apologies and equivocations, no darting eyes and shuffling feet, no mumbling and nervous laughter.

My point of course is not that the latter should not be the case, but that the former should not overbalance it. Yes, men can be horrid louts; and women can be appalling shrews. But isn't it simpler (and more Bibley) to say that men can be sinners, and women can be sinners, and call both to bow the knee to the Lord Jesus Christ in repentance, faith, and obedience?

And that's what I'm saying.

---

Marriage: a tale of paired assertions

by Dan Phillips

First: "Husbands should not force their wives to submit to their lawful authority."

Second: "Wives should not force their husbands to be sexually faithful to them."

Let's try two more, slightly different:

Third: "Husbands should not demand that their wives respect them."

Fourth: "Wives should not demand that their husbands love them."

And:

Fifth: "The Bible says that wives should subordinate themselves to and respect their husbands, but..."

Sixth: "The Bible says that husbands should love their wives as themselves, but..."

Then finally:

Seventh: "A husband's authority should never be exercised in an arbitrary or abusive way."

Eighth: "A wife's expectation of love should never be shrewish, excessively demanding, or insatiable."

Now, discuss.

Suggested questions:

• Is each pair of statements equally Biblical? If not, how not?
• Is each element within each pair of statements heard equally frequently? If not, why not?
• Are answers to any of the previous questions diagnostically helpful as to the spirit of the age?

---

Notes from God

by Dan Phillips

When I was a child, I had a pretty prodigious case of asthma. During the days when doctors made house calls, my parents would have to call the doctor occasionally to come and give blue-lipped gasping young me a shot of adrenalin to open up my lungs, so I could breathe again.

So later on in school I had a note from Mom, excusing me from physical activities such as track and the like. Running meant wheezing, and that wasn't good. So that note from Mom meant I didn't have to do what all the other kids had to do. Them, yes. Me, no.

That was a real note, a literal note, for a real reason. I didn't write it; my mother did. Behind her was the doctor. It had oomph. It was legit.

Throughout the 400 or so years of my Christian life, I have been astonished over and over at how many Christians imagine they have "a note from God." Unlike my mother's note, it isn't visible, it isn't readable by others, and it won't stand inspection. The oomph it has is supplied by their own imagination, and a complex series of accompanying diversions and rationalizations.

This phantom note excuses them from having to do what every other Christian in every other age and every other location on the globe (other than their little 2X2 spot) has been morally obliged to do.

Them, perhaps. Me, no. I have this note.

Such notes, and usually for such transparently flimsy reasons!

Here is a representative, non-exhaustive list:

• Scripture says that God calls me to involve myself in a local church, but I'm excused because no church leaders measure up to Biblical standards.
• Scripture says that God calls me to involve myself in a local church, but I'm excused because I haven't found a church that _____ (insert non-essential requirement of perfect adherence to personal demands).
• Scripture says that God calls me to involve myself in a local church, but I'm excused because ______ (insert sad story of bad past experience).
• Scripture calls me to love my wife as Christ loved the church, to nourish and cherish her, to assign her honor and live with her in an understanding way, but I am excused because she _____ (insert non-divorce-warranting litany of complaints here).
• Scripture calls me to subordinate myself to my husband in all respects as the church subordinates itself to Christ, to help him and respect him from my very heart, to win him by godly and respectful behavior and not a barrage of verbal abuse, but I am excused because he _____ (insert non-divorce-warranting litany of complaints here).
• Scripture calls me never ever even to think of abuse, threats, or divorce as marital aids or ways to resolve marital conflict,* but I am excused because _____ (that isn't my calling / I wouldn't be lauded as being nuanced and helpful and thoughtful / the Club will rescind my membership).
• Scripture calls me to honor my father and mother and make them glad I'm their child and not ashamed, but I am excused because they _____ (insert irrelevant personal issue here).

• Scripture calls me to devote myself to giving and serving in a local church that puts the preaching and doing of Christ's Word central, rather than shopping churches as if they were my personal Walmarts, stressing my convenience and my comfort-level and my desire to be served and coddled rather than called to serve and love, but I am excused because ______ (rationalization; or "my wife ___").
• Scripture calls me to study and learn and grow in my understanding of the word of God, but I am excused because it's hard / I can't concentrate / I'm just not a student (which = "I'm just not a Christian").
• Scripture calls me as a pastor to put the Gospel and the preaching of the whole counsel of God, including both the positive ministry of exhortation and the negative ministry of rebuking error, and to do it heartily, boldly, and without compromise wherever I go, but I am excused because _____ (that isn't my calling / I wouldn't be lauded as being nuanced and helpful and thoughtful / the Club will rescind my membership).
• Scripture calls me as a pastor to warn the folks in my congregation against serious sin and error regardless of how they will respond to me, but I am excused because _____ (it'd split the church / I'd lose too many members / that isn't my ministry).
• Scripture calls me to own and repent of the sin isolated and nailed by one or more of the previous bullet-points, no matter what anyone else does or does not do, but ____ (insert rationalization that will not stand up to the Judgment Seat of Christ here).

To make any personal use of the list, we must understand an axiom of human nature. It is the characteristic of each note-holder is that he will insist that his note is legitimate. He really does have a note from God, excusing him. He is the exception. Anyone not convinced by his rationalization "just doesn't understand," or worse.

But such note-holders need to remember: every unrepentant sinner is convinced that his sin is different. (See #15 here.) No exceptions. It's axiomatic.

Every one of us sinners insists that what we're doing is right — until we repent of it. So the person who refuses to get involved in a local church, refuses to treat his/her spouse as Christ commands, commits rape or murder or theft, refuses to love/respect his/her spouse, indulges homosexual desires, gossips, gripes, mopes as if he had no grounds for hope — they're all the same; and they're all the same in that each imagines he's different.

Repentance changes all that. Repentance puts God's finger on me, stops me dead, isolates me from everything, changes the issue to God and His Word and me, shatters all pretenses, and requires death and resurrection.

See, we tend to forget that the Gospel is radical and transformative. We tend to forget: when Jesus calls us to Himself, He calls us to deny ourselves, pick up our cross, and follow him. To deny myself is radical and transformative. It is to unseat myself as lord. To take up my cross is radical and transformative. It is to die to that life of rationalizations and excuses designed to cushion the pursuit of my own wants, needs and desires. To follow Jesus is radical and transformative. It calls on me to take my internal Canaan, city by city, and subject all of it to the Lordship of Jesus.

And we'll never make headway in any of that until we learn to shred every last one of our imagined "notes from God." 

---

* Note that this is carefully worded. I am not speaking of those areas where God does expressly permit divorce as an option — and, even then, not a requirement.

---

Christian marriage

by Dan Phillips

Christian marriage is like the Christian life... only more so.

Discuss.

---

The Case for Gay Marriage (3 of 3)

by Frank Turk







Yes, I know you have seen this video either at Desiring God or at TGC.  That doesn't mean you shouldn't watch it again.  Prior to the bombshell announcement last week here at TeamPyro, we were talking about what an appropriate secular definition of "marriage" was in order to sort of find our way to the place where we could understand what those demanding "same-sex marriage" were asking us for.  Look: let's be serious.  I am perfectly willing to concede that when we start talking about homosexuality, the LBGT people listening probably hear something like this.  Confessing that, or admitting that, or otherwise coming to terms with that frankly doesn't cost us anything.  It probably actually improves us by being able to walk 10 feet in the other guy's shoes.

But let's also be fair: the other side ought to be willing to demonstrate what they say they expect from us.  That is: if they want us to understand what we sound like to them, they have to at least ask themselves, "I wonder what we sound like to the other side?"  It's naive at least to demand someone hurdle the empathy barrier because they object to your demands, but in making your demands you have no intention of even facing good manners -- let alone demonstrate empathy.

But alert reader "Peter" found the previous thread and asked the astute question, "It is unclear to me why you need a definition of marriage. I am also unclear whether you are looking for a legal, sociological, or poetical definition.   Cannot homosexuals just say they want the same 'rights and privileges' that the institution of marriage currently provides to heterosexual couples?"

The answer, frankly, is "no."

If I told Peter that all I really want from life is all the "rights and privileges" of a handicapped person so that I can park in their spaces, would my demand seem at all out of scope?  See: the law plainly distinguishes between everyone else and the class of people who qualify for handicapped privileges in every parking lot in America.  It's not a constitutional crisis to say that everyone is not created equal, and giving a privilege to those for whom the parking places are designated is not the moral equivalent of racism.

"Well," Peter may retort, "that's because federal law has adopted a standard of equal access for public accommodations (ADA title III), and under that standard we 'must comply with basic nondiscrimination requirements that prohibit exclusion, segregation, and unequal treatment.'  The same-sex advocate is asking for the same thing: access, and an end to segregation and unequal treatment."  That is: they want a leg-up to level the playing field because in some way, the default state would be to leave them out.

There are three reasons this is probably unwise for Peter to go this way:

1. The assumption has to be that the ones being so-called "segregated" are in some way are "[people] who [have] a physical or mental impairment that substantially limits one or more major life activities."  If the advocates for same-sex marriage want to establish the problem as a "disability," that's a new one on me.  It would change the way this discussion plays out immediately.  Of course they do not see themselves this way, and I'm not asking them to.  But I am asking them to see that there is at least one major way in which definitions matter: they qualify the reason(s) for special privileges.

2. It should be noted that married is not a right per se, but a privilege. That is: if you are an intolerable cretin or a serial adulterer, the law recognizes that you are unfit for marriage.  If you are even infertile, the law recognizes that another person may see that as an insurmountable obstacle to being married to you.  You do not have a right to be married if you are unqualified or disqualified for marriage.  If this ever becomes untrue, I suspect that we won't have to worry about whether or not same-sex marriage is a question anymore.  If the state becomes the one to arbitrate who marries whom and whether it stays in force, I'll bet a lot of people will fight for the right to stay single forever.

3. There's more to it than the law.  See: the problem here which the advocates for same-sex marriage simply gloss over is that "rights and privileges" is a fairly-callow way to view the institution.  In fact, most days "rights and privileges" don't enter into it at all.

As Johnny Depp is clever enough to point out, "Marriage is really from soul to soul, heart to heart. You don't need somebody to say, okay you're married."  At least, until you don't want to be anymore.  Let's say, instead, that we adopt the brief definition provided by commenter Luke Wolford, who cites Living Sociologically by Renzetti and Curran.  He says the secular defition of marriage is given thus:

"Marriage: a socially approved union of two or more people in which each is expected to fulfill specific economic, sexual, and caregiving obligations and responsibilities."

What sort of proposal do you think this sort of arrangement would generate?  We covered that last time, but there aren't a lot of Romantic Comedies which would spring forth from this understanding of marriage.  In fact, I doubt there would be a lot of dour, duty-to-the-state sort of marriages if this is all that the institution ought to mean.

But think about this now: what if marriage means what Larissa says it means:

Marrying Ian meant that I was signing on to things that I donʼt think I ever wouldʼve chosen for myself — working my whole life, having a husband who canʼt be left alone, managing his caregivers, remembering to get the oil changed, advocating for medical care, balancing checkbooks, and on. The practical costs felt huge, and those didnʼt even touch on the emotional and spiritual battles that I would face.  

But in light of all the practicals, and emotionals, it was so very simple: we love each other. And we love God. And we believe He is a sovereign and loving God who rules all things.  

Our pastor who married us, Mark Altrogge, was with us on the day that our marriage was approved by a local judge. Because of Ian’s condition, the courts had to decide that it was in his best interest to be married. Mark said that he’ll never forget the words of the judge who approved our marriage license: “You two exemplify what love is all about. I believe that marriage will not only benefit you both but our community, and hope that everyone in this city could see your love for one another.”

This is why the definitions matter, and why, frankly, the law cannot hand this over to anyone.  It is outside of the law's purview.  It is not about the generation of "rights and privileges," but about the way loves works -- which is a surrendering of rights in order to serve and to save another person.

The rest, I think, is best left to the comments.  Mind your manners.

---

All the Responsibilities

Your weekly dose of Spurgeon
posted by Frank Turk

The PyroManiacs devote some space each weekend to highlights from The Spurgeon Archive.The following excerpt is from sermon #762 on the text of Jeremiah 3:14, delivered at the Metropolitan Tabernacle.

y fourth observation is, that this marriage necessitates certain mutual relations. I cannot say "duties," for the word seems out of place on either side. How can I speak of the great God making pledges of faithfulness? and yet with reverence, let me word it so, for in any vocabulary I have hardly words to set it forth. When God becomes a husband, he undertakes to do a husband's part. When he says, "Thy Maker is thy husband," you may rest assured that he does not take the relationship without assuming (well, I must say it) all the responsibilities which belong to that condition. It is the part of God to nourish, to cherish, to shield, to protect, to bless those with whom he condescends, in infinite mercy, to enter into union. When the Lord Jesus Christ became the husband of his church, he felt that he was under an engagement to us, and inasmuch as there were debts incurred, he paid them.


"Yes, said the Son, with her I'll go,
Through all the depths of sin and woe;
And on the cross will even dare
The bitter pains of death to bear."

He never shrunk from the doing of any of those loving works which belong to the husband of his chosen spouse. He exalted the word "husband," and made it to be more full of meaning than it had ever been before, so that the apostle could see it glittering in a new light, and could say, "Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it." Oh, yes! dear friends, there is a responsibility arising out of this relationship, but he of whom we speak has not departed from it; you know he has not. And now, what upon our side? The wife has to reverence her husband, and to be subject unto him in all things. That is precisely our position towards him who has married us. Let his will be our will. Let his wish be our law. Let us not need to be flogged to service, but let us say—


"'Tis love that makes our willing feet
In swift obedience move."

O Christian, if the Master condescends to say, "I am married unto you," you will not any longer ask, "What is my duty?" but you will say, "What can I do for him?" The loving wife does not say, "What is my duty?" and stand coldly questioning how far she should go, and how little she may do, but all that she can do for him who is her husband she will do, and everything that she can think of, every thing she can devote herself to, in striving to please him in all things she will most certainly do and perform. And you and I will do the same if we have realized our union with Christ. O beloved, do not grow sentimental and waste your energies in driveling fancies as some have done. Speak ye of a wife?—where the family is large, the work is heavy, and the responsibility great. I could fain remind you here, did time permit, of the words of King Lemuel, and the prophecy that his mother taught him. Bear with me at least while I admonish you to such a one, that the heart of thy husband may safely trust in thee. Let it be thy care to give meat to thy household. Lay thy hands to the spindle; suffer not thine industry to fail; eat not the bread of idleness. Stretch out thine hand to the poor, and reach forth both thine hands to the needy. Open thy mouth with wisdom, and in thy tongue be the law of kindness. Yea, and consider this with thyself, that in thy regard for all the duties of thy station, thou art fulfilling thy bounden obligations to thy Lord. Short words, but mighty, matchless deeds have told how Jesus loved us. Be it ours to carve our song of love to him on the hearts of some tender nurslings who are cast in our way, and committed to our care. O that the life I now live in the flesh, by faith in the Son of God, might become a poem, and a grateful response to him that loved me, and gave himself for me. I hope we do know, then, that when God says, "I am married unto you," it necessitates mutual relations.

---

---

The Case for Gay Marriage (2 of 3)

by Frank Turk

So last week I asked for a secular definition of marriage which actually helped us understand what the advocates of Gay Marriage are looking for.  It was an honest question because I had in my back pocket this essay by Richard Waghorn, which is a weird twin cousin of this essay by the ineffable Sam Schulman.

But we did happen to come up with, I think, the best possible secular definition of marriage via twitter.  It's found at TheFreeDictionary.com, and it goes like this:

Marriage

socially sanctioned union that reproduces the family. In all societies the choice of partners is generally guided by rules of exogamy (the obligation to marry outside a group); some societies also have rules of endogamy (the obligation to marry within a group). These rules may be prescriptive or, as in the case of the incest taboo, proscriptive; they generally apply to kinship groups such as clan or lineage; residential groups; and social groups such as the ethnic group, caste, or class.

Marriage is usually heterosexual and entails exclusive rights and duties of sexual performance, but there are instructive exceptions. For example, Nayar women of India would ritually marry men of a superior caste, have numerous lovers, and bear legitimate children. Among the Dahomey of West Africa, one woman could marry another; the first woman would be the legal "father" of the children (by other men) of the second. These examples highlight the functions of marriage to reproduce both a domestic division of labor and social relationships between different groups. Such functions are served even by the more common type of marriage, the union of one or more men with one or more women.

In most societies men and women are valued for their different roles in the household economy. Marriage therefore often occasions other economic exchanges. If a woman's labor is highly valued, a man may be required to offer valuable goods (bride-price) or his own labor (bride-service) to his wife's family. If a man's labor is more highly valued, the bride's family may offer goods (dowry) to the husband or his family.

Marriage as a Societal Bond

In many societies marriage links not just nuclear families but larger social formations as well. Some endogamous societies are divided into different exogamous groups (such as clans or lineages): Men form alliances through the exchange of women, and the social organization regulates these alliances through marriage rules. In some cases, two men from different groups exchange sisters for brides. Other instances involve an adult man marrying the young or infant daughter of another man; sexual relations would be deferred for many years, but the two men will have formed a strong bond. Marriages are often arranged by the families through the services of a matchmaker or go-between, and commence with a ritual celebration, or wedding. Some cultures practice trial marriage; the couple lives together before deciding whether they should marry. Society generally prescribes where newlywed couples should live: In patrilocal cultures, they live with or near the husband's family; in matrilocal ones, with or near the wife's family. Under neolocal residence, the couple establishes their own household.

Although marriage tends to be regarded in many places as a permanent tie, divorce is allowed in most modern societies. The causes of divorce vary, but adultery, desertion, infertility, failure to provide the necessities of life, mistreatment, and incompatibility are the most common. Civil unions are now permitted in Western countries, but for nearly a thousand years marriage in the Western world was a religious contract. The Christian church undertook its supervision in the 9th cent., when newlywed couples instituted the practice of coming to the church door to have their union blessed by the priest. Eventually the church regulated marriage through canon law. In contemporary N Europe marriage has lost some of importance, especially as social legislation has emphasized assuring equal financial benefits and legal standing to children born to unwed parents.

Forms of Marriage

Monogamy (the union of one wife to one husband) is the prevalent form almost everywhere. Polygyny (or polygamy; having several wives at one time), however, has been a prerogative in many societies (see harem). It is commonly found where the value of women's labor is high and may be practiced as a way of acquiring allies: A man may cement his bonds with several other men by marrying their sisters or daughters. Polyandry (having several husbands at one time) is rare, having occurred infrequently in Tibetan society, among the Marquesas of Polynesia, and among certain hill tribes in India. People who enjoy only a marginal subsistence may practice polyandry as a way of limiting births. It is also practiced where brothers must work together to sustain one household; they share one wife. The custom of marrying a widow to her late husband's brother is known as levirate marriage and was common among the ancient Hebrews. In sororate marriages a widower marries his deceased (or barren) wife's sister. The levirate and the sororate occur in societies where marriage is seen to create an alliance between groups; the deceased spouse's group has a duty to provide a new spouse to the widow or widower, thereby preserving the alliance. In recent years many gay-rights groups have sought official recognition of same-sex couples that would be comparable to marriage.

And here's my point in bringing that up: I want you to ponder this definition deeply, and think about it as if it was the only definition of marriage you had ever known.  Think about it as if this was the definition behind the law of the land, and as if it was the reason people actually got married in the first place.

Now fire up your imagination for a second.  Imagine you are at dinner with some other person, and you've been thinking about this for a long time.  As the waiter leaves with your order of eats for the evening, you clench up a little, and then screw your courage to the sticking place.  You take a deep breath and you begin, "What I really want is to avoid incest, and embrace endogamy.  I want some rights and duties regarding sexual intercourse and property, and to establish a nominal division of labor.  I want a visible household economy.  And you seem like exactly the right person to do that with, at least for now.  Will you marry me?"

Is there anyone who would really say that, or really want that?

Consider that, and I'll register part 3 next week to tie this all together.

---

Marriage: the one in the twoness

by Dan Phillips

Last time we busted a couple of marriage myths, one of which was the notion that it takes two to create marital ill health. We should dismember, bury, and forget the distracting lie of the Democratic Causality Myth, and we should take "blunt force trauma" (verbal or otherwise) out of our toolbox and toss it into the Atlantic, to sink down into the darkness forever after Rose's big dumb diamond.

So there are still problems in the marriage. What do we do?

I'll address pastors, but write with the assumption that all other interested parties are reading along. It won't be difficult to adjust and apply.

So here's the dilemma most pastors face most frequently. The person who's talking to you is unlikely to be the cause of the problems. I mean, look — show of hands, brothers: how many of you pastors have had a lady walk into your office and say, "You know, my husband's actually a pretty decent guy — loving, faithful, godly, devoted to me and the kids, hard-working... but I just can't seem to help verbally tearing him down to bloody shreds just about every chance I get. You got something for that?" Or how many men make an appointment to say, "My wife is an amazing lady. She's godly, incredibly competent and wise, treats me with love and respect, terrific mother... but I just like to spend every spare moment sitting around playing video games as if I was a no-account ten-year-old. Got some advice for me?"

No, in those situations, it would likelier be the husband or the wife (respectively) who's in the office, lamenting about the other's behavior. The other person doesn't have a problem — or so she thinks, so he thinks. But they aren't there. So, what's to say to the person who is actually in front of us?

Though conscious that my readership bristles with far wiser and better pastors than I, probably we all agree that the person we need to help is the person who's there. We won't really get anywhere talking at great length about the person who isn't. Right? Of course, if anyone has ideas about how to revolutionize the life of Party B by having a heart-to-heart with Party A, I'd love to hear it. I'll write a book. But meanwhile, on Planet Earth...

Not only can't we "fix" the absent party, we can't even really assess him. Remember Prov. 18:17? The soul before us could be a genuine suffering martyr, or (s)he could be a Suffering Martyr©, if you know what I mean. So whatever (s)he says about the other, we simply are not in a position to adjudicate, most of the time. Therefore, if we approach the time as "Sixty minutes to assign blame," it's likelier to be "Sixty minutes down the drain," isn't it?

What to do? Just this:

Deal with the person in front of you. You have plenty to say to that person. For instance, check this and this and this, just for starters. If you'd just read those thoughtfully, we might be done here. But let me assume that you have, and add just a couple of specifics.

Let's say you're talking to a wife in a troubled marriage. I don't know that there's really any great payoff (for her, for God's glory) in spending much time debating the truth of her complaints. Is there? Wouldn't it work to say something like, "I'm sure you understand, only you and God and your husband was there when that happened. I don't have any personal knowledge. But let's say that everything is exactly 100% as you say it is..."

Then where do you go? First, isn't it the case that most of the things that enrage the wives who come in for help are complaints, and not sins? I'm not saying that complaints don't matter, I'm just saying let's categorize them. She's enraged or frustrated or depressed or distraught because of his communication, his use of his time, his habits — not his frequent acts of murder, his constant adultery, his serial thefts. Right?

Wouldn't it be wisdom then to ask her, "Is this a sin? Do you have a Bible verse telling me this is a sin?" And then, whatever the answer, wouldn't it be wisdom to ask, "Do you know what God tells you to do even when your husband is actually sinning — not just failing to live up to your expectations and preferences, but sinning?"

Then go to 1 Peter 3:1-6. Expound. Discuss. Apply. (I'll have more to say in just a tick.)

Perhaps it isn't the wife. Maybe you're talking to a husband in a troubled marriage. What do you do?

Much the same, only go to 1 Peter 3:6, and then perhaps to Ephesians 5:25ff., and Colossians 3:19.  Expound. Discuss. Apply.

And here's the point, bringing together those passages plus the articles linked above: be sure to point out that none of those passages is conditioned on the other person's behavior.* That is, the apostle never says, "Wives, respect and subordinate yourselves to your husband only when you agree with what he's doing." Nor does he ever say, "Husbands, you must love your wives as Christ loves the church when and only when you find her lovable, submissive and pleasant."

On the contrary, do not all the passages rather assume imperfection in the object loved? Peter does so explicitly; what of Christ in the church? Just think, for a moment, if Christ loved the church only when the church deserved His love — but at all other times He felt free to withdraw in sullen poutiness, or respond in kind? Think, I say, then shudder in horror, and be wiser.

As long as we are married to each other,** we are obligated — personally, individually, each of us — to do all that God says we are to do. He does not condition it on the other's behavior.

That truth is both heavily obligating and freeing. You don't need me to expound how I am obligated by it. But it frees me from trying to decide how to behave, whether to be loving-Christlike-husband guy or fridge-fisted-boxer-guy (verbally or physically). Simple: I'm never called to be fridge-fisted-boxer-guy. I'm always called to be loving-Christlike-husband guy, irrespective of how my wife treats me.

Then you begin to realize that all those verses you thought were out-there are suddenly right-in-here, verses like Matthew 5:9-12, 21-26, 38-48; 7:12; Rom. 13:10-21, and all the rest. They aren't for then. They're for right now, right here, in your marriage.

I know. It's not worldly wisdom. The flesh hates just about every word I've written.

But insofar as it is Biblical, it is wisdom.

---

*Well, you almost could argue that 1 Peter 3:1ff. is an exception, couldn't you — but in the other direction? In other words, Peter doesn't say, "If your husband does this good thing, you must then do that good thing." Rather, he says, "If your husband does this bad thing, you must then do that good thing."

**In this way, once again, I am removing divorce from this entire discussion. We aren't talking about whether and how and when to end a marriage. We're talking about how to think behave within a marriage.

---