“Biblical” Marriage and Other BS
There’s an old joke that asks, “What do two White Anglo-Saxon Protestants say after having sex?” The punch line is, “It’ll never happen again.”
I’d like to think many folks no longer understand that joke, because the truth that makes it funny might not be as relevant to younger generations. Unfortunately, though, that might not be the case. I suspect there are many who grew up in a culture that taught that our bodies should be a source of shame, that they are inferior to our hearts and minds, that they are a source of temptation for ourselves and others, that they should be subject to the authority of someone else, and that they are ugly or the wrong shape. Sadly, you might be able to add to that list.
Honestly, and again I hope this is a result of my age and social location, when I was confronted with this week’s scripture from the Song of Songs, I was resistant. I didn’t want to reflect publicly on this text, which is devoted to the experience of erotic love between two people in love. Ask me to speak on love as it is framed in most of the rest of the Bible, and I’m good. That love means putting the needs of others ahead of your own. As difficult as it is in practice, it’s easy to talk about.
But the love of the sort we read about in Song of Songs? That’s more challenging for me and, I suspect, for most pastors. And too often, when pastors who look like me have talked about it, they have caused harm.
Yet our spiritual ancestors regarded this as a sacred text. Perhaps they were more mature or authentic when it came to the topic of sex, perhaps they saw it as a metaphor between God and God’s people, perhaps it refers to a relationship whose context has been lost to time. Regardless, the Song of Songs is one of the poetic scripture collections in the Bible. It doesn’t mention God or have an overt religious context (Weems, 1023), and it is the only book in the Bible primarily comprised of a dominant female voice (Weems, 1024).
It’s sometimes referred to as the Song of Solomon, but it is doubtful he was involved in its composition; more likely his name was lent to it because it carried weight. And of the two voices who converse in the scripture, it is the woman’s that is heard most often. That is unusual considering the patriarchal society that existed during Biblical history. The Song of Songs offers a counter narrative to the writings that speak of women being property whose primary value involved bearing children. And that’s what I hope to offer today: A counter narrative to scripture interpretations that too often have caused harm.
I hope you’re not familiar with the harmful messages around sexuality that have emerged from or been furthered by the church, and I pray you’ve not been affected by them. But far too many have.
These include messages that our bodies are bad, inferior to our minds or spirits. That they are sources of temptation to ourselves or others. That we should be ashamed of our bodies, or the desires associated with our bodies. That sexuality is like a present that can’t be opened until Christmas; if you so much as shake it before you’re married, you risk burning in hell. That ownership of your body does not lie with you. That touching yourself in “impure” ways plays a role in putting Jesus on the cross…
Most of these ideas originated in societal beliefs about bodies and sexuality that existed in culture, rather than the central messages of scripture. Due to the context in which scripture was written, though, there are some passages that can be used to promote beliefs that lead to self-harm, abusive relationships, and unhealthy marriages.
I was speaking with another Jesus-follower during one of my coffee hours last week. I was pondering what to say about the Song of Songs, and shared with her that I was struggling with what to write in this reflection. She reminded me that the Millennial generation grew up with what’s been termed “purity culture.” I’m a Gen Xer, so while I internalized some antiquated ideas about bodies and sex, I was an adult before purity rings, contracts around premarital relations, and the book I Kissed Dating Goodbye became prominent. Considering the negative impact such influences had on the self-concept and relationships of Millennials, it’s no wonder many of them left the church (or saw no appeal in attending in the first place). The “Biblical” marriage ideal championed by Christian pop culture seemed unattainable for some, and for others who committed to it, unfulfilling or even traumatizing.
I chuckle when I hear the term “Biblical marriage.” To which Biblical marriage are people referring when they use that term? And by what process or ceremony did those couples in the Bible become married? Husbands and wives are mentioned early in Genesis, but they seem to earn that designation by producing children. Abraham and Sarah are married, but Abraham has more than one wife, he tries to pass Sarah off as his sister when he feels his life is threatened, and he almost kills their son. (And he was an even worse husband to Hagar.) Isaac and Rebekah had what was basically an arranged marriage, and Isaac also followed in his father’s footsteps when in danger, saying Rebekah was his sister. Jacob married a pair of sisters . . . who were also his cousins. David had the husband of Bathsheba killed so she could be added to his collection of wives. Solomon’s harem might have included hundreds of women.
Stop me when we get to a marriage in which you would want to be involved. Especially if you’re a woman.
Wilda Gafney sums it up well, when she writes that “Marriage is socially constructed in and out of the Bible: abduction and rape marriages, polygamous marriages, and hierarchical domineering marriages are all biblical, but few would call them epiphanies of God’s love.” (Gafney, 56–57)
We can also look to the New Testament for an example of a “Biblical” marriage. A wedding in Cana is mentioned in the gospels, but there is no indication that a minister or temple was involved. All we know is that a lot of good wine was consumed there. Jesus does speak out against adultery and divorce, and in his conversation with the woman at the well mentioned that she was perhaps involved with too many men. So that offers us a reason to value commitment, as well as monogamous relationships.
Jesus also quotes Genesis 2:24, which says “a man leaves his father and his mother and clings to his wife, and they become one flesh.” I’ve heard this used as a “clobber text” at times to condemn homosexuality. But Jesus also says it’s best not to be married at all, which is usually overlooked by those who believe in Biblical inerrancy. (I suspect a lot of the folks who interpret certain verses of scripture literally also eat bacon, despite what it says in Deuteronomy 14.)
We learn a little about engagement customs of the time from passages about Mary and Joseph, but as the mother and stepfather of the Son of God, their situation was atypical, to say the least.
Those I’ve mentioned are certainly not the only marriages contained in the Bible, but I’ve yet to find one that can serve as a recipe for couples living in our time and place.
That leads me to return to the question of what today’s scripture passage can teach us about intimate relationships. It’s not altogether clear, even among biblical scholars like Renita Weems, who writes that “perhaps the fact that the book has been included in the [Bible] is evidence enough of the rich, complex, and often ambivalent thinking about women, sex, and matters of the heart that existed in Israel throughout the centuries.” (Weems, 1027)
I glean some messages from the Song of Songs, though. The voices of both members in a relationship should be heard; neither party should be dominant. Also, our bodies and the role they play in healthy, loving relationships should not be a source of shame; in fact, they should be celebrated. Our bodies are no less “wonderfully made” outside of marriage, as is the case of the unmarried bodies in today’s text.
There is no clear recipe for a perfect relationship or marriage, but Song of Songs expresses feelings to which we can relate. Renita Weems also writes that “audiences are supposed to recognize their own flawed demonstration and practice of love in these two characters, not because they recognize themselves in the characters’ genders, but because they recognize themselves in their humanity.” (Weems, 1029) Love, sex, and marriage are never perfect, and are sometimes messy, but they’re part of what makes us human, and part of what makes us image-bearers of God.
So I’m at a loss to point to an example of what a “Biblical” marriage is, unless what that means is a marriage that values commitment and reflects the greater themes found in scripture. So rather than viewing our bodies as a source of temptation, perhaps we should recognize them as a gift, and part of who we were made to be. Rather than rushing into a bad marriage due to moral or societal pressures, perhaps we should learn to love ourselves first so we’re better aware of when we’re receiving love from others. Rather than adhering to practices rooted in patriarchy more than in the Kin-dom of God, perhaps we should learn to prize the counsel offered by those who genuinely love us as opposed to that which causes harm.
Wilda Gafney writes that “our understanding of the human person and sexuality has . . . evolved since the text and marriage continues to be shaped to make known the wideness of God’s love.” (Gafney, 57) I’d add that our understanding of scripture and the context in which it was written also continues to expand, which benefits the conversation that occurs between science, faith, and humanity.
I can attest to the damage that can be inflicted by negative messages around sexuality that have emerged from religion, but thankfully I can also attest to the joy and fulfillment that one can experience in a loving marriage. I also recognize that there is no singular path to joy and fulfillment, and that for some their path does not include marriage or any sort of romantic partnership. Creation makes evident the joy God takes in diversity, and that diversity exists in many forms.
While today’s reflection inevitably suffers from the blind spots resulting from my social location, I pray it did no harm. I also pray that it offered something life-giving to you, and that it countered the dated narrative surrounding intimate relationships too often heard in churches. If you are struggling in an intimate relationship, know that you are worthy of love. Be gentle with yourself. Seek help from a trusted friend or family member. If you are in a healthy place yourself, seek to be that trusted friend or family member to someone else.
Siblings in Christ, I’m grateful to be on this journey with you as we navigate the mysteries of life. And I’m grateful to have a savior who himself experienced the joy, pain, pleasure, and struggle that comes with inhabiting a body. May yours experience peace and comfort in the coming days.
Amen.
Works Referenced
Gafney, Wilda C. A Women’s Lectionary for the Whole Church, Year W. New York City: Church Publishing, 2021.
Weems, Renita J. “The Song of Songs.” In New Interpreter’s Bible, Volume III. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2015.
