I suppose that some of us remember the furore around the current prime minister’s secret Catholic wedding in Westminster Cathedral half a year ago. Considering that he had already been married twice, reactions to the news ranged from raised eyebrows through astonishment to acrimony. The event left a particularly bitter taste for those who had divorced, started a new family and consequently were denied the sacraments. The news on the wedding was quickly followed by experts in Canon Law who explained the intricacies that made the marriage possible. Although there was some logic within the law, many were not convinced.
In today’s gospel reading, Jesus is dragged into a legal dispute that was ongoing at the time. Writing for a non-Jewish audience, St Mark didn’t present the intricacies of the Jewish oral law behind the trap question; for that, we need to recall St Mathew’s version: ‘Is it against the law for a man to divorce his wife for any pretext whatever?’ (Matthew 19:3) It was a direct reference to a rule in the Law of Moses: ‘A man has taken a wife and consummated the marriage; but she has not pleased him and he has found some impropriety of which to accuse her, so he has made out a writ of divorce for her […] and sends her out of his house…’ (Deuteronomy 24:1) Some contemporary Jewish scholars interpreted the term impropriety (literally: a shameful thing) very loosely while others understood it as referring to adultery only. The question Jesus faced was a trap because whichever side of the debate he would take, the other one could accuse him of either being too strict or too liberal. In his response, Jesus effectively skipped the legal aspect of marriage and went to the original divine plan: ‘a man leaves his father and his mother and clings to his wife, and they become one flesh. They are no longer two, therefore, but one body. So then, what God has united, man must not divide.’ This is the ideal that married couples should aspire to. But what does it actually mean?
Today’s first reading is a lovely story told in figurative language. It begins with the acknowledgement that loneliness isn’t our natural state; that we need others to live: ‘It is not good that the man should be alone. I will make him a helpmate.’ None of the animals brought to the man met the criteria – pet owners should take note… But when a creature made out of the man’s rib (remember, it’s a figurative, not literal story) was brought to him, his enthusiastic reaction tells us all we need to know: ‘This, at last, is bone from my bones, and flesh from my flesh!’ In other words, the man recognised the woman as his equal – and that was an enormously revolutionary idea in the patriarchal society of the time! Such equality has far-reaching implications and consequences described figuratively as ‘a man leaves his father and his mother and clings to his wife, and they become one flesh.’ As equal partners, they build up their loving relationship, submitting to each other and taking care of and responsibility for each other. Becoming one flesh has a symbolic meaning as well as a tangible one when we think about their offspring. Because of the latter, a life-long commitment of both is a must. So, this is the ideal that married couples should aspire to.
The problem with ideals is that they are much, much easier to describe than to put into action. We are all weak people, prone to selfishness and self-indulgence, easily led astray or chasing daydreams. Life can throw many curve balls at us, sometimes at the same time from different directions. Life is not ideal, and we often suffer as a consequence. So, ideals show us what we need to aim at; they give us a sense of direction of travel through life, but we are not there yet. For that reason, some provisions must be made. Jesus clearly understood that as we see in his initial response: ‘What did Moses command you?’ ‘Moses allowed us’ they said ‘to draw up a writ of dismissal and so to divorce.’ Then Jesus said to them, ‘It was because you were so unteachable that he wrote this commandment for you.’ The ideals we aspire to must be high, but their realisation happens in the challenging, sometimes brutal or dramatic reality of life. Because of the latter, people need help and support rather than harsh words or condemnation.
In my pastoral career, I have never come across a divorcee who was happy about such an end to their marriage. It’s always a difficult situation and when such a decision is made it’s traumatic, often guilt-inducing and involving a perception of one’s own utter failure. Some people heroically stick to their marital vows and live solitary lives; others overwhelmingly experience that ‘it is not good that the man (or woman) should be alone’ and start a new family. Often only then, having badly failed at their first marriage, people start to approach marital and domestic life more carefully and in a much more mature way. But, according to certain circles in the Church, such people do not deserve a second chance. Jesus described such ‘radicals’ well: ‘They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on the shoulders of others; but they themselves are unwilling to lift a finger to move them.’ (Matthew 23:4) It’s easy to be radical when it has no direct impact; anecdotally, such outbound ‘radicalism’ is often coupled with inbound leniency. I’m going to leave those condemnatory ‘radicals’ to their own, radically shrinking, narrow ‘church of the perfect.’
The Church offers a different pastoral vision, presented in the document Amoris Laetitia, authored by Pope Francis after the Synod on the Family. I strongly recommend reading it for yourself, it’s really good. The main premise of the document is a positive promotion of the ideal of marriage and family as presented by Jesus in today’s gospel, with practical implications on how to live up to it. The document also offers pastoral provisions for those who live solitary lives having been widowed, or separated, divorced or abandoned. In the context of the dispute in today’s gospel, the document states: ‘It is important that the divorced who have entered a new union should be made to feel part of the Church. “They are not excommunicated” and they should not be treated as such, since they remain part of the ecclesial community. […] They should be encouraged to participate in the life of the community. The Christian community’s care of such persons is not to be considered a weakening of its faith and testimony to the indissolubility of marriage; rather, such care is a particular expression of its charity.’ (243) At the end of the day, we all will be judged for love. This call by Jesus remains as relevant as ever: ‘Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful. Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned.’ (Luke 6:36-37)