14 – A Dying Kind Of Love
By PAUL ANDERSON
“Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her.” (Ephesians 5:25)
My philosophy of marriage changed after I entered into matrimony. I thought it involved finding someone compatible so you could live happily ever after. Now I think differently; the purpose of marriage, simply put, is to kill you.
I found this out one evening years ago when Karen called to let me know that she was coming home late and asked if I would cook. I was disappointed, but I resolved to respond honorably. As soon as I made that decision, I felt like Mother Teresa, Saint Francis, and Billy Graham all wrapped into one. What a gift I was to Karen. She was fortunate to marry someone so godly. But as the moments ticked off, so did I. The turkey was not the only thing cooking in the kitchen. I rehearsed the injustice of the situation in my mind. I had worked all day, and now I was putting out in the evening as well. She came home even later than anticipated, and by the time she arrived, all sainthood had gone out the kitchen window.
Many couples are surprised to find that marriage tests them more than they had imagined. That’s because marriage necessitates dying to self. Two people mean two different ideas, two different preferences, two different schedules, two different ways of doing simple things. When the Bible says that two shall become one, that means more than physical oneness. It involves thinking together, going places together, working out the finances together. You can’t buy whatever you want, and you can’t go to both New Mexico and New Hampshire on your vacation. You now pool your resources and schedules to live as one. Most couples find that task daunting.
We have ways to keep from dying, like trying to prove that we are not wrong or giving partial forgiveness, holding back in case we are hurt again. Jesus, on the other hand, died quickly and quietly. Jesus chose to lay down His life, which is what He calls us to do. And when He died, He held no bitterness in His spirit. He didn’t enjoy dying, but He enjoyed the results. I discovered that evening in the kitchen that dying is not fun. The Bible teaches husbands: “Love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her.” (Ephesians 5:25) This kind of sacrificial love is what it takes for two people to become one.
Happiness in marriage doesn’t come by pursuing it but by dying to your selfishness so you can serve your spouse. And dying means something different to each person. For Jesus, it meant a Roman cross. For a passive person, it might mean not backing down. For one given to anger, it could mean keeping your mouth shut. For one full of self-pity, it means learning to feel with others. The other option is to choose your own happiness, and if you hold on to that as your right, get ready to lose that battle. You will go to the edge, entertain an affair, or otherwise compromise the values that you never considered breaking. We must learn to separate needs from desires, or we’ll get in trouble. Happiness is not a requirement for living out the Christian life—holiness is! “Without holiness, no one will see the Lord.” (Hebrews 12:14)
Maybe you’re thinking, “Okay, I’ll be the victim. I’ve played that role plenty of times. I’ll die to my plans, my dreams. Hit me again.” If so, you are believing that power comes from domination. Once again, look at the cross. Christ at His weakest was God at His strongest. The power of surrender beats the power of force. The victim is the victor. The One on the cross is reigning. It was true for Jesus, and it will be true for you—in marriage, in life. So go ahead—try dying and discover the life that comes from real, sacrificial love.
TALK ABOUT IT
Share about an experience you’ve had (whether in marriage or in a different situation) that is similar to the author’s late dinner story. How could it have ended differently?
In what areas do you (not your partner) need to die to yourself for this marriage to work?
How can you go above and beyond to selflessly serve your spouse today?
Pastoring a Lutheran church for 25 years, directing International Lutheran Renewal, and starting The Masters Institute Seminary are a few of the things that Paul Anderson and his wife of 41 years, Karen, have devoted their lives to, but above all, they love spending time with their 6 kids and 11 grandchildren.