Taking out the Trash, Forgiveness, and Other Celebrations of Love and Commitment

Last week I wrote about a few issues related to marriage legislation, and mentioned an article about the importance of showing “unconditional regard” for children. This week I’d like to shift from legislation and write about marriage as a lived reality, and to follow up with some examples of parents and children, and the elusive pursuit of that same regard.

The most recent episode of This American Life included an incredibly moving story about a young couple receiving relationship advice from, of all people, former Wyoming Senator Alan Simpson and his wife Ann. The Simpsons have been married for 60 years, and they were honest with the young couple, Anna and Arthur, about the ups and downs of marriage. Mr. Simpson spoke about learning that intimacy wasn’t about sex, but rather acting toward your spouse in ways that communicate love and understanding. They both discussed the importance of opening up about past pain in the context of a couples counseling session through their church. They also spoke about dealing with the conflict that inevitably comes in marriage. Mrs. Simpson’s comment, “You can’t get rid of conflict, you have to face it, and you have to do that together,” was revelatory to Anna. Mrs. Simpson continued by saying, “You decide to make it work.” This led Anna to conclude that, as she sought that best way forward with Arthur, a solid commitment was the key. Anna concludes, “We didn’t have to have all of the logistics hammered out, we just had to make the choice to figure things out together.”

That reminded me of another story I heard on This American Life several years ago about a couple from Mesa, Ariz., who, because of the man’s immigration status, was required to move to Mexico for 10 years before being eligible to live legally in the U.S. His wife, who blogs about their new life together in Juarez, at one point in the story, through tears, gives a beautiful description of marriage, observing that while popular media—including Christian media—portray love and marriage as an overwhelming flood of passion (usually sexual), she’s experienced the power of marriage in the sacrificial acts of her husband: mopping the floor when she works late and preparing food when they have people over. She concludes by saying, “That’s what made me go to Mexico, taking out the trash.”

[caption id="attachment_1268" align="alignright" width="300"] Trash Can
photo by Eva the Weaver on Flickr and licensed by http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/2.0/legalcode[/caption]

Finally, in yet another episode of This American Life, the host, Ira Glass, interviews a man, Kurt, who, after a fairly tumultuous season of relationship struggles, suggests that every marriage should have an “re-up” clause every seven years, effectively setting an end date on the marriage relationship. In response, Ira says, “The no escape clause, weirdly, is a bigger comfort to being married than I ever would have thought before I got married.” He talks about the safety of the commitment, knowing that, when bumpy times come, there is time to work them through, no need to worry about the other person simply leaving, simply opting out. Kurt responds saying by saying, “I had never thought of it that way.” Then, after some silence, he continues, “I like thinking about it that way,” and, after more silence, concludes, “you just see so many examples of where people don’t think that way.”

Communication, vulnerability, acceptance, commitment, sacrifice—these are acts of love, and when we see them practiced we catch a glimpse of the beauty that God intended for marriage. Although not as common as we’d like, these love stories are out there, and often in places we’d least expect—we just need to look.

I’m not a huge pro basketball fan, but I was incredibly moved by Kevin Durant’s acceptance speech after being named the MVP of the NBA last week. Among other things, Durant praises his mom and brothers for their unconditional, unwavering support. He knew they loved him no matter how he performed. His brother shows “unconditional regard” through sending Bible verses via text message with words of encouragement and love no matter how he plays, and his mom demonstrated radical love by missing meals when Durant was growing up so he could eat—a sacrifice that wasn’t contingent on how he was performing, but rather simply because he was her son.

David Brooks, commenting on Durant’s speech on the PBS Newshour, in observing that Durant experienced unconditional acceptance and affirmation from his mother and his brothers, encourages parents, especially parents who have kids in competitive sports leagues, to model the same kind of unconditional acceptance and affirmation of our children. It’s so easy to do something “extra” when the performance is extraordinary, but maybe we should be more generous with praise and celebration when the performance is less than what everyone hoped it would be. I think that Jesus may have told a story along those lines . . .

Continuing on the theme of the importance of parenting, I saw a movie this week called “The Spectacular Now.” I’m not a film critic, but I found the movie to be a well-told and well-acted story about two teenagers “coming of age” as they graduate from high school and prepare for whatever “adulthood” might mean. Both of the protagonists have parents that are, in most every way, absent. The boy, Sutter, was essentially abandoned by his father at a young age, and, as often happens, he blames his mom, who is rarely around because she works double shifts as a nurse to support her son. The long-awaited meeting between Sutter and his father is painful to watch, as Sutter realizes that his dad essentially chose a life of hedonism over him.

The girl, Amy, lives with her mom and step-dad, neither of whom we see. We know that they spend time at the casino, though, because Amy wakes up early each morning to do her mom’s paper route. We also discover that her dad died from a drug overdose, as he was addicted to prescription drugs. The absence of parents, especially fathers, results in deep confusion, and, while there is a hint of redemption at the end, the story is full of “near-misses” that could have easily led to death and destruction.

Finally, I was struck by the cover story of this month’s Christianity Today, which is called “What We Forgot About Forgiveness.” The author, Leslie Leyland Fields, reflects on the journey she underwent as she sought to offer forgiveness to her father for the serious wounds he inflicted on her. She writes, “If we are to thrive as image bearers; if the church is to be a salve to a wounded culture; if our country and our communities are to prosper; if our own families and children are to break free from generational sins, we will need to learn and practice forgiveness toward those who often have hurt us most: our mothers and fathers.”

Our families have a huge impact on the kind of people we become. As a pastor, a good chunk of my pastoral care is devoted to issues related to marriage and family—pre-marital counseling, counseling for marriages in crisis, prayer for healing from the actions of an abusive parent, or the inaction of an absent parent. More prayer for healing from an abusive spouse, seeking to repair what has been broken. I see myself as part of a “team” of healing, along with counselors and psychiatrists, prayer ministers and friends.

While Christian spouses and parents can make every effort to model true love, and while churches should do everything they can to create safe space to encounter the goodness and love of God, we fail. We need to celebrate the moments when marriage reflects God’s good intention, and when we see parents lavish unconditional regard on their children. We need be aware, though, that we all enter marriage and parenthood as sinful people, raised by sinful people. That’s why we pray, “Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us.” What if we became families and churches that seek to celebrate and show glimpses God’s good intention for marriage and parenting, yet also to create safe space both to seek and to give forgiveness? In our world that is so confused, so wounded, it’s certainly worth a try.