Divorce is Hard
I remember the first time I told someone that I thought the right thing was for her to be divorced from her husband. I cannot remember who that was or what circumstances brought her into my office, but I remember thinking to myself as soon as she walked out the door, “I never expected to say those words.”
At the time, I was newly ordained, relatively newly married, and without almost any experience of divorce. Some of my aunts and uncles had been divorced, and I had a few childhood friends who had split their time between their separated parents’ homes, but I had grown up in a family that did not know first hand how painful the breakup of a marriage is. I had the privilege and luxury of assuming that marriages only failed because the individuals involved did not give them their best. Of course, that was a shallow and naïve impression that has little bearing on reality.
Although I cannot remember the details of that woman’s story, I remember hearing her describe a situation in which she had given everything she had to salvage her marriage. I cannot recall whether she was married to someone with a long history of substance abuse, volatile behavior, or infidelity, but I remember thinking that, regardless of whether she got a probate judge to sign a divorce decree, her marriage was already over. There was no way for their sacramental union to remain an image of God’s love for the world.
When she asked me if I thought that God would forgive her for getting divorced, my heart broke. Searching for any words that could convey God’s unwavering love in a situation rife with theological contradiction, I told her about an Episcopal priest who had originally been a Baptist minister but who had left that denomination after his marriage had ended. Years earlier, his child had died of cancer, and the pain of that death was more than his marriage could bear. The only relief he and his wife could find was in divorce—a tragic but unavoidable consequence of their already tragic situation. Unable to continue to minister in the Southern Baptist Convention, he eventually discerned a call to ordination in The Episcopal Church, where he served faithfully for the rest of his life, becoming a renowned preacher and pastor in our tradition.
Sometimes marriage fail. Often they fail because we have not given them our best, but sometimes they fail even though we have done everything we can to save them. Sometimes marriages end because we have neglected them, but other times marriages break apart because of circumstances beyond our control. Regardless of how it happens, sometimes divorce is the only way to honor God by admitting that the marriage we are in cannot be reconciled and, thus, can never fulfill its purpose of imaging God’s reconciling love for the world.
You might think that The Episcopal Church, which in some (though largely superficial) ways traces its origin back to the dissolution of the marriage between Henry VIII and Catherine of Aragon, is a safe haven for those who have experienced divorce, but there is still nothing easy about coming to church after your marriage has failed. Our denomination has been willing to remarry divorced persons for decades, but the grief that comes with the breakup of a marriage is deep and painful, and, for many, coming back to church brings guilt and judgment instead of forgiveness and peace.
I do not mean to suggest that divorce should be easy or inconsequential. Jesus has some pretty radical things to say about divorce and remarriage, and, if we were to take him at his word, we would recognize that the dissolution of a marriage is as painful and traumatic as having a part of your body ripped off. None of us should approach the end of a marriage—our own or anyone else’s—as if it did not matter to us or to God. But many who have endured the pain of divorce could tell you that the agony they experienced in ending their marriage was still better than what they endured within it.
The church should be a place where the beauty and holiness of marriage is celebrated, where those whose marriages are under stress are supported and encouraged as they seek reconciliation and renewal, and where those whose marriages have ended because reconciliation was not possible are welcomed and cared for as those who have experienced an unavoidable grief. You might think that, in a church as loving, caring, and welcoming as ours, that happens automatically, but I think we need to do more.
Over the years, I have noticed that when a faithful parishioner, who has a long history of being active in our congregation, goes through a divorce, they often disappear from church. In those cases where I recognize what has happened, I reach out and offer pastoral care and encourage them to stay connected with the church, where they will always be welcome. More often than not, I fail to renew their connection with the community of faith. Maybe you have noticed the same. Maybe being in church is just too painful, no matter what we say.
In the coming months, I hope that St. Paul’s can offer a ministry of support for individuals who have experienced divorce. So far, I have not been able to find a good curriculum or framework for that ministry, nor have I thought of people who might be good leaders of such a gathering. As with any support group, this will only work if it is led by gifted people who have deep resources for holding together a group without veering into therapy or getting overwhelmed by their own challenges. If you have any suggestions for what a ministry for divorced persons could look like, please share them with me or Sara.
As a community of faith, in which we are joined together as members of one body, we must all feel the pain of those who experience divorce. If, as Jesus reminded us, the two have become one flesh in marriage, then the flesh of the body is wounded when they must separate, and that means that we must care for those who are hurt when marriages end.
Throughout history, the church’s primary response to those who have endured the pain of divorce has been to heap shame and guilt on top of their woundedness. While I am thankful that the church holds up marriage as a gift to be treated in accordance with the purposes for which it was instituted by God, I think we can celebrate the holiness of marriage without excoriating those whose marriages have ended. We must do a better job of caring for those who have experienced the grief of divorce. When our primary response becomes pastoral care instead of judgment, I trust that marriage will be a fuller representation of God’s love among us, and for that we can all be thankful.
Yours faithfully,
Evan D. Garner
