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The Eschatological Marriage

The fundamental purpose of creation—that for which all things were created—is the marriage of God and humankind and, through humankind as microcosm, the marriage of God and the entire cosmos. When Christians today think of marriage, we tend to think in contemporary cultural terms of an intimate partnership that has legal status involving mutual benefits. Our theologies of marriage are often thin doctrinally; we reserve thought about marriage mainly to moral issues. In fact, the doctrine of marriage must center upon the purpose for which God created the whole cosmos, namely, the “mystical marriage”1 of God and creation. It will then be seen that marriage is not solely about sacramental and moral issues—though it is about these—but also involves and illuminates the doctrines of the Trinity, original sin, and the Cross, as part of illuminating the full mystery of Trinitarian creation, fall, redemption, and deification.

Support in this regard comes from Jewish scholars. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks remarks, “God is a husband and we are his wife.”2 The Jewish biblical scholar Jon D. Levenson says the same, in view of the interpretation of Israel’s Scriptures. Regarding “the marriage metaphor of the prophets and the poems of erotic longing in the Song of Songs,” he urges that we must learn that God’s relationship to his people “is a love simultaneously covenantal and deeply passionate.”3 From a Christian perspective, this will be spelled out in Trinitarian and christological terms, as the whole of creation is guided toward its eschatological consummation. Louis Bouyer comments, “The Church is the Bride, participating by marriage union in all the privileges of her Bridegroom, as being the people of God come to the perfection of the number of the elect . . . at the same time as it is mankind (that is, the whole world) brought back to the purity of the primitive design of God for His creation.”4 The plan of God for his creation is the marriage of all of God’s people with God in Christ by the Holy Spirit.

Jesus Christ has inaugurated but not yet consummated the marriage of God and creation. This does not mean that human marriage is no longer important. On the contrary, the revelation of the nuptial purpose of creation makes marriages between men and women even more worthy of theological attention. It is necessary to apprehend how Christian marriage and family are—without being superior to consecrated singleness—at the very center of human flourishing. The spiritual writer Heather King, herself unmarried, puts this well: “No matter our age, socioeconomic status, or station, we are called to order our lives to the human family. If we’re single, we are called to lay down our lives for other people’s children.”5 The eschatological marriage of God and creation does not bypass human families. Christian marriages are signs of the self-surrendering love of Christ. In the sacraments, the Church is directed as Bride toward the Bridegroom who will come in glory at the end of the age. Ideally, as the liturgical theologian Uwe Michael Lang observes, “the whole liturgy is celebrated obviam Sponso, facing the Bridegroom. The faithful so anticipate the Lord’s Second Coming and can be likened to the virgins in the Gospel parable: ‘But at midnight there was a cry, “Behold the bridegroom! Come out to meet him”’ (Mt 25:6).”6

Given the centrality of the Bridegroom, however, should I have focused first on Jesus Christ rather than on marriage, in the dogmatic order of the present series? After all, according to Scripture, “before the foundation of the world” God “destined us in love to be his sons through Jesus Christ” (Eph 1:4–5); and, moreover, “all things were created through him [Christ] and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together” (Col 1:16–17). He is “the Alpha and the Omega,” “the first and the last” (Rev 1:8, 17).7 As Bonaventure emphasizes, Christ is the goal of God’s creative plan. Speaking in scholastic language about the divine ideas that ground the act of creation and about the rationes seminales embedded in creation, Bonaventure concludes that “the highest and noblest perfection cannot exist in this world unless that nature in which the seminal principles are present [the created order], and that nature in which the intellectual principles are present [the soul], and that nature in which the ideal principles are present [God] are simultaneously brought together in the unity of one person”—namely, in the incarnate Son, Jesus Christ.8 If so, it seems that the volume on creation might best be followed by a volume on Christ.

After the present volume, the next two volumes of this series will focus on the doctrines of Israel and Christ. The doctrine of marriage sets the scene by identifying the purpose of creation and the purpose of God’s covenantal work in Israel and its Messiah. Erich Przywara remarks that “nuptial love . . . is the fundamental mystery of the Old and New Testaments: from the prophets to the Song of Songs to the gospel of marriage declared by the evangelists from Matthew to John, to the inwardly nuptial theology of the Pauline epistles, and right up to the ‘wedding and wedding feast of the Lamb’ as the ultimate meaning of Revelation.”9 In inquiring into the goal of creation, it is necessary first and foremost to hear the call to Christ’s wedding banquet: “The Spirit and the Bride say, ‘Come’” (Rev 22:17).10 We cannot wait for marriage to appear as a topic within sacramental and moral theology. It should be brought to the front of the line, as the “final cause” of creation and redemption. Thus understood, the doctrine of marriage combines reflection upon the wedding banquet of “Christ the Bridegroom and the Church, his Bride,” with a new theological vision of “Christian marriage [as] measured by this highest union.”11

Not surprisingly, Bonaventure himself appreciates the centrality of the eschatological wedding. Reflecting upon “[t]he steps leading to sweetness of charity via the outpouring of the Holy Spirit,” he places at the highest point the marriage of God and his people through the Bridegroom Christ.12 In each step toward the attainment of this goal (through perfect charity), we must “have firm confidence in the Groom.”13 We must be inflamed spiritually with desire for union with the Groom (Christ), and through contemplation we should experience God lifting us up to the spiritual “heights of the Groom” so that we can behold interiorly “the beauty of the Groom” and rejoice in “the bounty of the Groom.”14

Throughout his reflections, Bonaventure cites the Song of Songs, which for Bonaventure is about Christ’s longing for spiritual union with the Church and the Church’s longing for spiritual union with Christ. Ultimately, he concludes that we (the bridal Church) must be bound to Christ with “a bonding strong as cement, one with the strength of the Groom’s love.”15 The perfection of our “marriage” with Christ will come from Christ’s divine strength, not ours; and yet we will truly be indissolubly bound to Christ, such that we will never renounce our union with him. As John of the Cross makes clear in his hymns (according to Przywara), the purpose of the “chromatic plenitude” of creation is to serve as “an ‘image and likeness’ of the one marriage”—accomplished on the Cross—“in which the totality of creaturely reality is wedded to the ‘God who is all in all.’”16 Here Christian marriage obviously takes on its deepest meaning, but one that is at the same time closely related to the meaning of sacramental marriage.

Thus, to affirm the marriage of God and creation as the very goal of creation, the purpose for which God created the cosmos, does not sideline Christ. On the contrary, Christ is the Bridegroom. Having discussed God’s creative work in the previous book of this series, I therefore turn in this book to the purpose of God’s creative act: the marriage of God and creation—and so also, more centrally than some previous dogmatics have allowed, the nature and importance of Christian marriage as a sign of the eschatological marriage that Christ has inaugurated.17

Christian sacramental marriage bridges creation and redemption. As a created reality, “the good of marriage is intelligible in part precisely as a union of persons sufficiently stable in which to welcome new life and whose acts of bodily communion are per se aptus for the generating of new life.”18 When this central element of the created order is forgotten or neglected, as it is by many Catholic theologians today, the result is to compromise both marriage as a created reality and marriage as an eschatological sign of the marriage of Christ and the Church. For one thing, as Levenson remarks about biblical Israel and the two lovers in the Song of Songs, “the assumption that there is a significant dichotomy between love for its own sake, on the one hand, and love leading to marriage and children, on the other, is false.”19

Jesus, Paul, and Human Marriage

Some theologians and biblical scholars today, like the Gnostics, Manichees, and Cathars of old,20 find in the New Testament a sharp dichotomy between the eschatological marriage of God and humanity, on the one hand, and human marriage, on the other. The former is thought to negate the latter. For example, David Wheeler-Reed holds that in 1 Thessalonians 4 and 1 Corinthians 7, “Paul’s advice created a strategy of power that challenged marriage itself”; and Wheeler-Reed also thinks that the Gospels of Matthew and Mark (and perhaps Jesus himself) are “antifamily, antimarriage, antihousehold, and antiprocreation.”21 Given that the kingdom has been inaugurated, all earthly ties have indeed been relativized. But positions such as Wheeler-Reed’s, while understandable up to a point, distort the New Testament’s testimony. As Brent Waters observes, Jesus “commends marriage in prohibiting divorce, insisting that its one-flesh unity embodies a mutual and lifelong fidelity, and his love of children conveys a blessing upon parents. . . . Jesus is calling together the subjects of God’s new, universal reign, and familial bonds are condemned only when they prevent, instead of permitting, this more expansive loyalty” to God and his kingdom.22

Certainly, for Christians awaiting the fullness of the eschatological marriage, marriage and family must not be posited as the ultimate end. Jesus firmly cuts the ground out from under such familial idolatry: “Brother will deliver up brother to death, and the father his child, and children will rise against parents and have them put to death” (Matt 10:21). We sometimes deceive ourselves into thinking that our familial responsibilities stand above all else. In fact, Christians must remember that our primary allegiance is to Christ, keeping in view Christ’s words that “whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother, and sister, and mother” (Matt 12:50).

No doubt, then, there is an inevitable tension between the temporal duties and pleasures of family life and bearing witness to the in-breaking of God’s new kingdom—but “the tension need not be debilitating” and it should not be exaggerated beyond its real dimensions.23 The goal of Christians must be nothing less than the eschatological marriage of God and humankind. But along the way, we must be careful not to fall into “false and unfortunate dichotomies.”24 For example, with respect to the “marriage at Cana in Galilee” (John 2:1), the revelation of the inauguration of the kingdom (“the good wine”) hardly means that Jesus refused to share in the celebration of the human wedding to which he and his disciples were invited. On the contrary, the eschatological marriage and human marriage (healed and elevated by Jesus) go together, which is why Jesus can say with profound approval, “So they are no longer two but one. What therefore God has joined together, let no man put asunder” (Matt 19:6).25

The Plan of the Work

The first four chapters of this book lay theological grounding for any Christian understanding of marriage; and the final three chapters explore in more detail the practical and sacramental side of actual Christian marriages. The first chapter explores the “marriage” of God and his people, or Christ and the Church—the consummation of the whole of salvation history. Julie Hanlon Rubio notes that, by comparison to other contemporary understandings of what a wedding should be, “a Catholic wedding has a somewhat different focus, which, if read correctly, yields a theology of marriage built on relationship but rooted in and oriented toward God and community.”26 Emphasizing this distinctive focus, I foreground the marriage of God and creation that stands at the heart of biblical revelation. I don’t think that Christian marriage can be understood outside this context.

However, a fundamental question arises at the outset: is the God of Scripture an abuser? Would anyone want to be “married” to the God of Israel, given that, according to Scripture, God treats his bride Israel roughly because of Israel’s sins of infidelity? Furthermore, when most people today think of the Bible or the Church, they do not think of an eschatological “marriage.” They may think of being redeemed from sin and death, of the liberating power of Christ’s teachings, of the need for the grace of the Holy Spirit, and so forth, but not of “marriage.”27 Given this situation, drawing upon Brant Pitre’s recent survey, I begin by showing that the biblical story is united by its portrait of a Creator God who wishes to draw his people and the whole creation into a relationship with him so profoundly intimate as to be called marital. Second, I argue that although the biblical narratives use images of marriage drawn from the culture of the ancient Near East and therefore (in the Old Testament) include abusive images—as Gerlinde Baumann and others emphasize—the negative elements are not the heart of the matter.28 On the contrary, the point is that to be “married” to the true God is to experience a communion of abounding and unending joy, love, and mercy. Given that we are sinners, the analogy must include images of judgment, but the images of superabundant merciful communion stand at the center of God’s merciful plan for giving marriage its full eschatological meaning.

Having established the scriptural and theological centrality of the marriage of God and his people, in chapter 2 I inquire into whether in the marriage of man and woman we find an “image of God” (Gen 1:26–27), as we might expect given the symbolic significance of marriage with regard to our ultimate destiny. If the image of God is found in the marital relationship of the man and the woman, then it seems that single people, including Jesus, would not be in the image of God. (Indeed, even married individuals would not be in the image of God, since they would only be the image of God as a couple.) Even so, some theologians, such as Matthias Joseph Scheeben and Pope John Paul II, have taught that the familial conjunction of man, woman, and child provides a valuable image of the Trinity, in its relational difference and fruitfulness. Karl Barth likewise proposes that the man-woman relationship, in its covenant-making relationality, is the “image of God.”

In my view, the position of Hans Urs von Balthasar on this topic works best. He argues that the male and female spouses, in their self-surrendering love that is fruitfully generative, give us a rich image of the fruitful generativity and selfless surrender that constitute the Persons of the Trinity. I suggest that even though von Balthasar’s understanding of the image requires the complementary insights of Augustinian-Thomistic theologies of the image, nonetheless he is on to something important about how marriage offers an “image of God.”29 In the fruitful self-surrender exemplified by a graced marriage, we perceive the ground for the analogous connection between human marriage and our eschatological sharing in the wondrous depths of the Trinitarian life.

Given that marriage sheds light upon our nuptial communion with God (and upon our nature as created in God’s image), chapter 3 pays attention to the fact that marriage is not absent from the act by which the first humans wounded their graced humanity. Does it matter that the first sin was committed by a married couple rather than by an individual human being? Surveying three recent commentaries on Genesis, I identify significant insights but not much attention to the sin of Adam and Eve specifically as a married couple. By contrast, for Ephrem the Syrian, John Chrysostom, and Augustine it greatly matters that the first sinners were a married couple. These Church Fathers perceive that given the purpose of creation—namely the eschatological marriage of God and creation—it makes sense that original sin consist in the fall not merely of individuals but of human solidarity itself, as found in the intimate communion of the first marriage. Adam and Eve’s rebellion against God disrupted their nuptial vocation in more ways than one.

Just as the marital context is important for understanding original sin as the fall of human solidarity, so also the effects of Christ’s Cross pertain to marriage. John Piper comments, “Marriage is woven into the wonder of the gospel of the cross of Christ.”30 Of course, a good marriage is not to be equated with the crucifixion of one or both spouses. But today we often minimize the self-sacrificial element required by a good marriage, despite the fact that the New Testament abounds with descriptions of life in Christ that insist upon the necessity of sharing in the Cross. To show how Christian marriage depends upon the Cross of Christ, my fourth chapter turns especially to the writings of Catherine of Siena and Karol Wojtyła (who became Pope John Paul II). These two saints help us to perceive why linking marriage to the redemptive Cross of Christ is not negative toward marriage as though marriage were a cross. Rather, fortified by the spouses cleaving to the Cross of Christ, marriage prepares for and already participates in the eschatological marriage of Christ and his Church. Put simply, as part of the restoration of fallen human solidarity, the spouses must be “configured to Christ’s ultimate priestly spousal act of self-donation on Calvary.”31

The book’s final three chapters address practical and sacramental issues that pertain to understanding what Christian marriage is.32 Chapter 5 is about identifying the purposes of marriage, which determine the kind of thing that marriage is or should be. I begin by describing the contrasting paths marked out by Plato and Aristotle. In Plato’s Republic, Socrates argues that marriage is unnecessary among humans who are truly capable and wise. In his view (although scholars dispute whether Plato intends for us to take him literally), the best class of men and women should avoid marriage. Instead, they should have multiple sexual partners and should rely upon communal child-raising, so that parents will not know their children and vice versa. Socrates opposes marriage partly because it often elevates private family interests over the common good of the city. Aristotle strongly rejects Plato’s view and insists upon the goodness of marriage, especially for child-raising.

In light of these two contrasting perspectives, I discuss the “goods” and “ends” of marriage, as set forth by Augustine and John Chrysostom. I then turn to the more recent viewpoints of the Catholic scholars Dietrich von Hildebrand and Cormac Burke. Von Hildebrand proposes to distinguish the “primary meaning” of marriage (mutual love) from its “primary end” (procreation). For his part, Burke argues that procreation and the “good of the spouses” are two equal ends that should not be hierarchically ordered. In response to von Hildebrand and Burke, I contend—in accord with Aristotle and with the earlier Catholic tradition—that marriage has as its primary end (which cannot be distinguished from a “primary meaning”) the procreation and raising of children. As Donald Wallenfang puts it, “rooted in the intrinsic differences between male and female (and the procreative potential dependent upon these differences by nature), the basic concept of marriage signifies one man and one woman bound together for life to become husband and wife, father and mother.”33

In chapter 6, I take up the question of whether marriage truly is a sacrament instituted by Christ and intended to be one of seven sacraments of the Church. The Protestant Reformers rejected the Catholic (and Orthodox) view that marriage is a sacrament in this sense. Recently, Catholic scholars have also begun to call into question marriage’s status as a sacrament. As an example of this viewpoint, I examine the Catholic historian Philip Reynolds’s claim that in the twelfth century the Church invented the sacrament of marriage. Since a major part of the contemporary debate has to do with the question of doctrinal development, the chapter’s second section explores New Testament resources for thinking about doctrinal development, including the question of why Christ does not simply teach everything clearly from the outset. Third, I examine two extended historical-theological arguments in favor of the Church’s teaching that marriage is a sacrament, by Edward Schillebeeckx (writing in 1961) and Peter Elliott (writing in 1987). These authors hold that the key elements of marriage’s status as a sacrament are already in place in the New Testament, where it is clear that Jesus wills to heal and elevate the created reality of marriage within the supernatural order of grace. Schillebeeckx and Elliott help us to see that the Church’s twelfth-century affirmation of marriage as one of the seven sacraments did not simply come out of nowhere but rather represents an authentic development of Christian doctrine.

Having addressed the purposes of marriage and its location within the sacramental mediation of grace, my seventh and final chapter addresses the question of whether Christian marriage is actually good, either for the spouses themselves or for the just ordering of society. After beginning the chapter by examining the pro-marriage emphasis of the African American pastor Christopher Brooks and the social-justice concerns of Ta-Nehisi Coates, I treat a number of scholarly criticisms of Christian marriage. I also examine efforts to do without marriage (or at least without male-female marriage), such as when single women or homosexual couples choose to have a child by means of sperm donation or surrogacy.34 As a counterpoint to these critiques of or end-runs around Christian marriage, I survey in some detail the arguments of the Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church, the sociologist David Popenoe, and the legal scholar Helen Alvaré. I argue that the presence of a father and a mother in the home—the establishment of stable families in which children are raised by their biological parents—is fundamental to the pursuit of social justice and the good of individuals and families. Without this foundation, the ability of persons and societies to participate in the eschatological marriage is deeply wounded, since the wounds caused by injustice impede the blossoming of selfless love, even though the merciful grace of the gospel can overcome these wounds.

These final three chapters are interrelated. The loss of awareness that procreation is the primary end or purpose of male-female marriage has assisted in the disintegration of marriage itself as a common practice. Even in places where divorce rates are relatively low, couples often do without marriage and so do not benefit from the sacrament of marriage healing and elevating their union within the order of grace. Generally, couples in Westernized countries are having few children. Lifetime relationships are rarer. Feelings of loneliness and despair, as well as violence related to family breakdown and to the lack of a father in the home, are more prominently expressed in the culture. Christian faith has spiraled downward in areas where marriage and children are disappearing.35 There is a relationship between recognizing procreation as the primary “end” of marriage (chapter 5), valuing marriage as a sacrament at least in some sense (chapter 6), and perceiving marriage’s powerful contribution to social justice (chapter 7).

Lisa Sowle Cahill contends that “[f]or contemporary Christians, as for most members of modern society, the highest meaning of marriage, and its only really indispensable one, is love.”36 This may be true as a description of modern Christians, but to suppose that only mutual “love” is “indispensable” to—or even necessarily the “highest meaning” of—a Christian marriage is to have forgotten its roots in a self-surrendering fruitfulness that, while profoundly loving, goes well beyond what moderns mean by “love.” Marriages that lack mutual love can still be fruitful in all sorts of important ways. This is not to deny, of course, that abuse may and often will require a permanent separation of the couple.

Moreover, there is a strong relationship between understanding the more “practical” dimensions of marriage (chapters 5–7) and understanding marriage’s theological role in the economy of salvation, including in our imaging of the triune God’s selfless fruitfulness (chapter 2), our distorting of the human imago (chapter 3), and the action of Christ’s Cross in the healing and perfecting of the spouses (chapter 4). At a still deeper level, there is a relationship between all these dimensions of Christian marriage and the accomplishment of the purpose for which God created: the marriage of God and creation (chapter 1). As Robert Jenson says, “there is one woman and one man in the new one flesh in that there is one Israel and one divine bridegroom, one church and one Christ; both unities are aspects of the same mystery.”37 Put simply: unless we understand the marriage of God and creation, we will not understand Christian marriage in its fullness; and, conversely, unless we understand Christian marriage, we will not understand the marriage of God and creation.

What about Our Royal Priesthood?

Before proceeding to the chapters, however, let me raise the question of whether the eschatological marriage really is the purpose for which God created human beings. After all, Richard Middleton remarks that when God creates humans in Genesis 1, God himself identifies his purpose: humans are to rule over the earth as God’s stewards. Thus Genesis 1:26 states, “Then God said, ‘Let us make man in our image, after our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth’ [emphasis added].” Middleton notes that the verb for “let them have dominion” or “let them rule” is repeated in Genesis 1:28.38 For Middleton, as for many scholars, royal rule is the purpose for which God created humans. He explains that “the sort of power or rule that humans are to exercise is generous, loving power. It is power used to nurture, enhance, and empower others, noncoercively, for their benefit, not for the self-aggrandizement of the one exercising power.”39 He also emphasizes that all humans are intended to exercise this royal rule, because all humans are God’s images. The Orthodox theologian Vladimir Lossky likewise observes, “In the context of the sacerdotal narrative of Genesis, the creation of man ‘in the image’ of God confers on human beings a dominion over the animals analogous to that which God enjoys over the whole of his creation.”40

In line with Middleton’s perspective, N. T. Wright argues that through “God’s supreme act of new creation,” all of the ways in which Christians have reigned by wisdom and love in this life will become part of the recreated world.41 In the new creation, humans will finally fulfill the mandate that God gave from the beginning: to reign over the earth as royal stewards and to spread God’s reign. Wright affirms that believers have received “the immense privilege of sharing the intimate life of the triune God himself.”42 But according to him, the key way in which we will share everlastingly in God’s life is by reigning. Wright explains that in the coming eschaton, when we receive our resurrected body, “the purpose of this new body will be to rule wisely over God’s new world. Forget those images about lounging around playing harps. There will be work to do and we shall relish doing it. . . . [T]he biblical view of God’s future is of the renewal of the entire cosmos, [and] there will be plenty to be done, entirely new projects to undertake.”43

Furthermore, in the Gospel of Matthew, shortly after teaching about marriage, Jesus himself promises his disciples that “in the new world, when the Son of man shall sit on his glorious throne, you who have followed me will also sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel” (Matt 19:28). This seems clear enough: the eschaton will be primarily about reigning, and not primarily about marital intimacy with God. Additional evidence may seem to come from Jesus’ teaching—again about the consummated kingdom of God—that “in the resurrection they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are like angels in heaven” (Matt 22:30). Marriage, in short, may not really be a fundamental Christian reality at all.

Some scholars have proposed a second option. In their view, God created the human race in order to establish a race of priests who would lead the entire cosmos in its worship of God. Thus, John Walton suggests that “we should think of Genesis 1 in relation to a cosmic temple.”44 In Genesis 1, God creates the cosmos as a temple, and he dwells in its midst on the seventh day. Walton compares Genesis 1’s depiction of the seven days of creation with ancient Near Eastern texts about “temple inauguration,” including the biblical text of 1 Kings 8.45 He thinks that Genesis 1 may have functioned liturgically for celebrating God’s creation of his cosmic temple and God’s enthronement therein.46 In the cosmic temple, humans (created in God’s image) serve as God’s “vice regents” or, more specifically, as “priests.”47 Humans recognize God’s role as Creator “by our observance of the sabbath” and by means of liturgies by which we celebrate God’s place “in the temple that is his church (1 Cor 3:16; 6:19).”48

The view that God’s purpose in creation was to create priests is found in Ephrem the Syrian’s fourth-century Hymns on Paradise. Speaking of the Edenic paradise, Ephrem suggests that at his creation, Adam was a priest, but not yet fully so. In Hymn III, Ephrem states that “God did not permit Adam to enter that innermost Tabernacle; this was withheld, so that first he might prove pleasing in his service of that outer Tabernacle.”49 The service of the “outer Tabernacle” consisted in obedience to God’s commandment not to eat of the fruit of the “tree of the knowledge of good and evil” (Gen 2:17). Ephrem explains that “Adam’s keeping of the commandment was to be his censer; then he might enter before the Hidden One into that hidden Tabernacle.”50 But instead Adam (and Eve) disobeyed the commandment. In Hymn XV, Ephrem amplifies his view that God created humans to be priests. He holds that Solomon’s temple and its priestly service symbolized and recreated the Edenic condition. In serving God in the Solomonic temple, the priest was supposed to be “robed with knowledge”; and the sanctuary was “a type for Paradise.”51 The Israelite priest was supposed to “put on sanctification,” by contrast to the failed priest Adam, who “was stripped of glory.”52 As Ephrem says in Hymn XIII, Jesus Christ is the “High Priest” who by his “death has returned us to our heritage.”53

Biblically, of course, there need be no opposition between claiming that God created us to be kings and claiming that God created us to be priests. Christ himself is both the messianic Davidic king and the true “high priest” (Heb 2:17).54 First Peter 2:9 identifies Christians as “a royal priesthood.” Revelation 1:6 describes Christians as “a kingdom, priests to his [Christ’s] God and Father.” Indeed, in its portrait of the crucified and risen Christ entering the liturgical assembly of the blessed, the book of Revelation depicts the blessed singing “a new song” that praises Christ for having “ransomed men for God from every tribe and tongue and people and nation” and for having “made them a kingdom and priests to our God” so that “they shall reign on earth” (Rev 5:9–10). Likewise, those who come to life in the “first resurrection,” according to Revelation 20:5–6, “shall be priests of God and of Christ, and they shall reign with him a thousand years.”

The book of Revelation is especially important, however, for showing that God created for the purpose of the eschatological marriage. In Revelation, there is no opposition between humans having been created to be royal stewards and priests of God, and humans having been created to be married to God. Revelation describes “the holy city, New Jerusalem, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband” (Rev 21:2). An angel calls to the Seer and tells him, “Come I will show you the Bride, the wife of the Lamb” (Rev 21:9). The “Bride” is the Church, the New Jerusalem. God and Christ indwell the New Jerusalem so perfectly that the whole city—symbolic of the countless elect people of God—is the perfect temple of God.

I will discuss these points further in the chapters that follow. Let me simply note here that by privileging marriage, I do not intend to detract from believers’ royal and priestly roles. Only if our intimacy with God is so profound as to be “marital” can we eschatologically “reign” and consecrate all reality to God. Otherwise, we could not be true sharers in Christ’s Sonship or in Christ’s royal priesthood. Instead we would have been created simply to stand to the side. It is only if we truly are the “bride” of Christ, intimately united with him and intimately sharing in his communion with the Father in the Spirit, that we can also be priests and kings with him, governing all things in justice and offering them in praise to the Father.

Moreover, the ministry of the ordained priest is inscribed within this eschatological marriage, due to the ordained priest’s ability to act sacramentally in persona Christi. The Orthodox theologian Dumitru Staniloae says, “The liturgical [ordained] priests do not offer only their own personal sacrifices and prayers but those of the entire community and of all the faithful joined to the sacrifice of Christ. In the priest the unification of all is realized, as in the visible image of Christ, who offers Himself invisibly through the priest as a sacrifice.”55 This beautiful description shows how God’s people are enfolded, in their self-offering, within the one priestly self-offering of Christ, the self-offering that brings about the long-desired marital intimacy between God and his (fallen) people. We become the “bride” of “the bridegroom” whose “joy . . . is now full” (John 3:29).

Why Is There No Marriage in Eternal Life, and What about Single People?

Yet, let me pause one more time and ask a further question: why should marriage be so privileged, given that the New Testament and the Church in many ways affirm the superiority of singleness in the Lord? Jana Bennett comments, “A poignant question for theologians should be, What about single people?”56 Likewise, Albert Hsu remarks, “A truly Christian view of both singleness and marriage will honor both equally without disparaging one or the other.”57 By placing this volume on marriage directly after my volume on creation, have I fallen into the trap of implicitly disparaging singleness?

In response, let me reiterate that to participate in the marriage of God and his people, there is no need to enter into a human marriage. The Apostle Paul teaches the value of celibacy: “I wish that all were as I myself am” (1 Cor 7:7). Given that Christians live in the eschatological end-times (the inaugurated kingdom), Paul worries that the daily tasks and responsibilities of married life will focus Christians too firmly on their worldly interests. He counsels, “Are you free from a wife? Do not seek marriage. But if you marry, you do not sin, and if a girl marries she does not sin. Yet those who marry will have worldly troubles, and I would spare you that” (1 Cor 7:27–28). Marriage can indeed focus a couple inward on their own family.58 My point here is simply that through baptism, confirmation, and the Eucharist, single Christians too are caught up into the eschatological marriage of Christ and his Church. They can therefore exercise a spiritual fatherhood or spiritual “motherhood ‘in the order of grace.’”59

Bennett observes, “Christians have most often affirmed the high place of eschatology in view of vowed nonmarried people over against marriage,” whereas Christians “tend to speak of marriage largely in terms of creation only.”60 In this book, I aim to “affirm the high place of eschatology” while speaking of marriage “in terms of creation” but not only creation. The created order—which is created in grace, in accord with God’s plan from “before the foundation of the world” to make us “his sons through Jesus Christ” (Eph 1:4–5)—is created for “marital” union with the triune God. I agree with Paul Evdokimov when he says, “Monastic holiness and married holiness are the two faces of Tabor; the Holy Spirit is the limit of the one and the other. Those who reach the summit by either of these paths ‘enter into the peace of God, into the joy of the Lord.’”61

Is it a problem, however, that Jesus teaches that in eternal life people “neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are like the angels in heaven” (Matt 22:30)? On the contrary, this is what we should expect. Earthly marriage as a sacrament exists to build us up in the self-surrendering love that already fully characterizes the life of the blessed angels—the life of marriage with God. In the consummated kingdom, all will be intimately bound to all, and all God’s people will be present. Precisely because the eschatological marriage will be all-encompassing, sexual intercourse, with its one-to-one exclusivity and procreative power, will not be needed. By God’s power and presence, all the delight and pleasure of intimate interpersonal communion will be wondrously amplified, not negated or reduced. Simply put, eternal life will superabundantly fulfill human marriage, through the unimaginable fullness of the “marriage” of Christ and his Church.

In light of this eschatological consummation, Staniloae speaks of the “gradual pneumatization of the couple’s bond,” through acts of embodied love and service.62 On earth “the mystery of an ongoing and intensifying personal communion” enables the spouses to “experience Christ as the one who appears through the other,” as the spouses grow more transparent to Christ.63 In eternal life this intense intimacy of communion will be shared by the whole Bride with the triune Bridegroom.

Alexander Schmemann remarks that marriage can be a sacrament only if it is “related to the Kingdom which is to come.”64 This means not only that male-female marriage is a sign of the “marriage” of God and creation, but also that if it were not for the marriage of God and creation, male-female marriage would not have the meaning it does. The eschatological reality is the prime analogate. For Schmemann, too, the Virgin Mary’s “Yes” is already the inauguration of the eschatological marriage, as the bridal Church comes to be in history.

I seek to follow Schmemann in firmly grounding the royal and priestly status of the human being in the context of the marital purpose of creation. He explains that “man can be truly man—that is, the king of creation, the priest and minister of God’s creativity and initiative—only when he does not posit himself as the ‘owner’ of creation and submits himself—in obedience and love—to its nature as the bride of God in response and acceptance.”65 The point is that human nature, as created in grace, has an eschatological nuptial vocation, which is signified by human marriage but can also be enacted by single persons: we are created in order to give ourselves in love to God, in an intimacy so profound as to be marital.

Joseph Ratzinger adds the cautionary note that God is no mere “partner” on the same level as human creatures. Thus, we can only give ourselves fully to God when we “accept God’s [transcendent] otherness and the hiddenness of his will” as the key to the flourishing of our own creaturehood.66 In accordance with this line of thought, Hans Urs von Balthasar speaks of the Church’s graced “feminine receptivity,” with Mary as the perfect embodiment of the Church from the first moment of the Incarnation.67 Behind the priestly and royal status of human beings is the nuptial purpose of God’s creation of humans, a purpose revealed most perfectly in Mary’s Yes. As Schmemann puts it, in Mary’s fiat we find “the whole creation, all of humanity, and each one of us recognizing the words that express our ultimate nature and being, our acceptance to be the bride of God, our betrothal to the One who from all eternity loved us.”68

Commenting on Schmemann’s perspective, David L. Schindler suggests that today we often are blind to the nuptial meaning of creation because, given modernity’s mechanistic worldview, we tend to reject any “intrinsically liturgical, nuptial, and Marian sense of cosmic-cultural order.”69 Love’s receptivity no longer seems of value—if it ever really did—in comparison with obtaining and wielding power. No wonder, then, that the sacrament of marriage often is not well understood. In this regard Schmemann highlights the crowning that takes place in the Orthodox marriage liturgy, a crowning that symbolizes the fact that each family is “a sacrament of and a way to the Kingdom.”70 This is not a romanticizing of marriage but rather an attempt to show that every marriage derives from, and points to, God’s greater purpose, the establishment of God’s nuptial kingdom of love.

Here it is necessary to underscore that as “a sacrament of and a way to the Kingdom,” Christian marriage involves the Cross of Christ. Schmemann explains that “the way to the Kingdom is the martyria—bearing witness to Christ. And this means crucifixion and suffering. A marriage which does not constantly crucify its own selfishness and self-sufficiency, which does not ‘die to itself’ that it may point beyond itself, is not a Christian marriage.”71 By pointing beyond itself, Christian marriage bears fruit in love unto eternal life. For Schmemann, therefore, the nuptial purpose of creation is not opposed to the truth that Christ is “the one true Priest” and the Church is “the royal priesthood of the redeemed world.”72 To be a priest, whether baptized or ordained, means appreciating “that all things, all nature have their end, their fulfillment in the Kingdom; that all things are to be made new by love.”73 This unimaginably glorious newness in love is what the marriage of God and creation ultimately is.

Is Christian Marriage Outdated?

One final point merits attention before proceeding. Today, the Catholic understanding of marriage has become unpopular and, in many circles, provokes the charge of lack of compassion, unjust discrimination, and self-righteous bigotry. The situation is exacerbated by the fact that many Catholic theologians themselves, having acceded to the cultural norm, argue that scriptural and magisterial teachings on marriage, rooted in male-female complementarity, are essentially meaningless—as though Catholic sexual morality and teaching on marriage could be radically revised without the core of Catholic faith being touched.74

An example is a recent book co-authored by the moral theologian James Keenan. He grants that “Catholics are intensely interested in the nature of marriage as the place where faithful love and procreativity concretely flourish” and that the Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that male-female marriage is the place for genital sexual expression.75 But in his own constructive discussion of sexuality and the virtues, he leaves marriage almost entirely to the side. Instead, he simply contends that we must “be faithful to the long-standing, particular relationships that we have,” and that we must never “abandon our lover.”76 In an extended discussion of sexual relationships, he never mentions marriage between a man and a woman.77

Similarly, James Martin has recently published a popular book, Building a Bridge: How the Catholic Church and the LGBT Community Can Enter into a Relationship of Respect, Compassion, and Sensitivity. He reports that “LGBT Catholics have told me that they have felt hurt by the institutional church—unwelcomed, excluded, and insulted.”78 The reality that Martin describes is sad: no one should feel excluded from coming to Christ. Yet, Martin knows that the experience of hurt is at least partly due to Scripture and Tradition’s rejection of the sexual acts practiced by non-sexually abstinent people who identify as LGBT.79 In the context of Christian faith, experiences of hurt cannot be overcome by obscuring or denying the nature of marriage and its signification. Martin’s call for “respect, compassion, and sensitivity” on all sides is welcome, but Martin’s approach in his book—acting as though biblical teaching as mediated by the Church’s constant Tradition can simply be bracketed or relativized in discussions among Catholic believers—turns away from what God has revealed about marriage and sexuality in Christ.80

To name a final example, in their Sexual Ethics: A Theological Introduction, Todd Salzman and Michael Lawler bestow a Catholic theological blessing upon homosexual intercourse, cohabitation, masturbation, contraceptive sex, divorce and remarriage (without annulment), and indeed upon almost everything that the Catholic Church has consistently rejected as incompatible with the vocation of marriage and virtuous human sexuality. Either the Church has never understood its own sacrament, or else, as I think, a strong current of worldly accommodation threatens Catholic marriage today.81

The Orthodox theologian Vigen Guroian has noted that at the core of this worldly accommodation is a rejection of the teleology found in the created ordering of male and female human persons, a rejection that distorts the sacrament of marriage by removing its necessary “grounding in creation.”82 Guroian recognizes that marriage is a sacrament not merely of human sexual coupling, but specifically of male-female human sexual and personal union: the “male and female are the essential and nonsubstitutable elements of that sacrament.”83

***

There is no need to end this introduction on a depressing note. In Christ, we look forward to the glorious consummation “when there will appear the Spouse of the Lamb, the predestined Church, united to the Lamb in all his glory. That is the time when the entire creation, assembled round the new humanity . . . will be reunited to its creator in the Son, itself son of the Father with Him and in Him, and temple of the Holy Ghost.”84 The failures of the Church over the centuries, failures that sometimes have obscured the proclamation of the gospel but have not miscarried its truth, cannot blind the eyes of faith to the reality of the inaugurated kingdom present even now. “The daughter of the king is decked in her chamber with gold-woven robes; in many-colored robes she is led to the king, with her virgin companions, her escort, in her train. With joy and gladness they are led along as they enter the palace of the king” (Ps 45:13–15).85

1. Evdokimov, Orthodoxy, 102.

2. Sacks, The Great Partnership, 172.

3. Levenson, The Love of God, 132.

4. Bouyer, The Meaning of Sacred Scripture, 198.

5. King, Ravished, 80.

6. Lang, Turning Towards the Lord, 102, drawing upon Schönborn, Loving the Church, 203–6.

7. I am aware that many theologians and biblical scholars today, including many Catholics, allow for human experience of the divine but are unable to speak of divine action: see for example Natalie Kertes Weaver’s contention that “[w]hen we combine the findings of Scripture scholarship . . . we can reasonably conclude that ‘revelation’ in the Old Testament refers to the Israelites’ interpretation of their experience of history as an experience of God working within and directing that history” (Weaver, Marriage and Family, 9). Revelation is a properly theocentric concept, even though of course human mediation is always involved.

8. Bonaventure, On the Reduction of the Arts, 57 (emphasis added).

9. Przywara, Analogia Entis, 610.

10. For discussion see Mangina, Revelation, 251.

11. Von Balthasar, The Spirit of Truth, 343.

12. Bonaventure, The Triple Way, 180.

13. Bonaventure, The Triple Way, 180.

14. Bonaventure, The Triple Way, 180.

15. Bonaventure, The Triple Way, 181.

16. Przywara, Analogia Entis, 611.

17. See also Cloutier, “Composing Love Songs for the Kingdom of God?”

18. Brugger, “Reason’s ‘Wax Nose,’” 155.

19. Levenson, The Love of God, 129.

20. See the excellent overview provided by Stoyanov, The Other God.

21. Wheeler-Reed, Regulating Sex in the Roman Empire, 73, 82. Wheeler-Reed considers that Ephesians and the Pastoral Epistles, all of which he finds to have been written much later, go in the opposite direction. Wheeler-Reed is especially influenced by Dale Martin: see Martin, Sex and the Single Savior; Martin, “Familiar Idolatry”; Martin, “Paul Without Passion”; Martin, New Testament History and Literature. For a contrary view, see Collins, What Are Biblical Values?, 97–98. Collins notes that Jesus “certainly did not reject the institution of marriage for most people,” although he goes on to say that in a certain sense at least (and literally at least for some), “Leaving family was the price to be paid for membership in the new community of the kingdom” (What Are Biblical Values?, 98, 100).

22. Waters, The Family, 9 (emphasis added). See also Bromiley, God and Marriage, 38: “Jesus is for marriage, not against it. He can be for it, however, only by being against it in the form in which it is attempted by those who do not put the commitment to God first.” Commenting on 1 Cor 7, Bromiley adds that Christians must not “absolutize marriage nor anything else that belongs to this passing order,” and in this sense “[t]he married, who are tempted to put husband or wife or children first, find greater difficulty in achieving the primary commitment to Christ which lies at the very heart of faith and discipleship” (Bromiley, God and Marriage, 59).

23. Waters, The Family, 9. Waters also points out that in the first-century context of severe disruption—the context of many of the first hearers of the written Gospels—the tension would be much less. He states, “The teachings against the family are harsh only to an audience that has placed its hope and confidence in a social, economic, and political order derived from stable households” (Waters, The Family, 10). Regarding Paul’s privileging of singleness, Waters cites Brown, The Body and Society, 55–56.

24. Pennington, The Sermon on the Mount, 293.

25. For Calum Carmichael, Jesus intends to imply that “marriage is a return to the original androgynous state that God created at the beginning of time” (Carmichael, Sex and Religion in the Bible, 9; cf. 102). This argument is not persuasive. Jesus is teaching his disciples about the indissolubility of marriage between a man and a woman. For a similar attempt to get beyond the male-female binary, but from a Greek and Heideggerian philosophical and literary perspective, see Hemming, “Can I Really Count on You?” It seems to me that what Carmichael and Hemming are looking for is simply the unity of men and women as humans. See also the remark of John J. Collins in his What Are Biblical Values?, 86: “It has been argued that before the creation of Eve, Adam was undifferentiated, neither male nor female. The argument has a certain logic, but it is undercut by the use of the same word, ‘Adam,’ for the male after the creation of Eve. It is ‘the man’ (ha-adam) who acknowledges Eve as ‘flesh of my flesh and bone of my bone’ in Genesis 2:23.”

26. Rubio, A Christian Theology of Marriage and Family, 29.

27. For reflection upon eternal life in terms of the joy of weddings, see McKnight, The Heaven Promise, 95–96, 109. For McKnight, admittedly, God resides “[h]igh and lifted up” (The Heaven Promise, 109) in his consummated kingdom—an image that does not describe “marital” intimacy.

28. For a similar argument against Baumann, see Levenson, The Love of God, chapter 3.

29. Thus I do not agree with the criticisms of the Augustinian doctrine of the imago that von Balthasar voices at various places, as for instance in Truth of God, 37–43, 85, 161–65.

30. Piper, This Momentary Marriage, 29.

31. Keating, Remain in Me, 79. See also the reflections of Wright, “The Christian Spiritual Life and the Family,” 189: “The Christian life means treating others as one would like to be treated. It is also a life marked by the capacity for forgiveness. The dynamic pattern of that life is kenotic, or self-emptying, as was the life of Jesus. It thus consists of expanding beyond our present, limited capacities for love. . . . The domestic church is an intimate laboratory in which this kenotic pattern can play itself out, if we would but let it. Any parent knows that the advent of a child, even one welcomed with joy, is a stretching, sometimes painful process of growing beyond one’s present capacity to love. Love grows as the heart is pried open to welcome a new life. This sort of love is neither generic nor intrinsically self-referential. Rather, parental love, in the majority of people, creates a capacity to care for another in a way that is radically generous, radically new. Sometimes the process feels like ‘dying to self’ but, if genuinely realized, that dying is in fact a being born into a new, more spacious self, a self whose interest includes, even privileges, another self.”

32. Originally, I intended to include one further chapter, on marital indissolubility. That chapter grew into a separate book, The Indissolubility of Marriage. In that book, I respond to the approaches to marriage represented well by Bernard Häring’s complaints about the formation of Gaudium et Spes: see Häring, “Fostering the Nobility of Marriage.” Some readers have interpreted the book as a defense of Amoris Laetitia. Let me be clear, therefore, that I affirm that Amoris Laetitia teaches the doctrine of marital indissolubility and also rightly insists upon the need for compassion toward people whose sacramental marriages have failed and who are in a new civil marriage without annulment. But I think that there are formulations and theological arguments in Amoris Laetitia that are not adequate to the doctrine of the indissolubility of marriage. Furthermore, the new pastoral strategy regarding Eucharistic communion runs counter to the reality of marital indissolubility, as I show in the book. In favor of the view that knowingly violating the bonds of an indissoluble marriage should not necessarily be an impediment to Eucharistic communion in charity, a view that is mistaken, see also Cantalamessa, The Gaze of Mercy, 73. Cantalamessa’s arguments are uncharacteristically simplistic. For a representative argument against marital indissolubility, see Lawler, Marriage and Sacrament, 75–97, 104–11. See also Lawler’s Marriage and the Catholic Church, 103–4, where he argues, along surprisingly ultramontanist lines, that there is “a more-than-human power in the Church to dissolve a failed ratified and consummated marriage. . . . There is a power in that Church [the Catholic Church] that extends to the binding and loosing of sin and to the transformation of bread and wine. That momentous power surely extends also to the reformation of a reformable doctrine the Church itself inaugurated. If a non-consummated marriage between baptized believers, that is, a sacramental marriage which falls under God’s law, ‘can be dissolved by the Roman Pontiff for a just reason’ (Can 1142), a ratified and consummated marriage which falls under the Church’s law can also be dissolved by the Roman Pontiff for a similarly just reason.”

33. Wallenfang, Metaphysics, 48–49.

34. In my Aquinas’s Eschatological Ethics, I take up this issue a bit further in discussing chastity. The Evangelical theologian John K. Tarwater has aptly pointed out, “Scripture presents two main purposes of our sexuality, to be united and to generate. Following both creation accounts in Genesis, God enunciates the two purposes. First, he commands the couple to ‘Be fruitful and multiply’ (Gen 1:28). Second, God says that ‘Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and they shall become one flesh’ (Gen 2:24). . . . In his discussion with the Pharisees concerning divorce, Jesus linked these two creation mandates, procreation and unity” (Tarwater, Marriage as Covenant, 104–5).

35. See Eberstadt, How the West Really Lost God.

36. Cahill, Sex, Gender, and Christian Ethics, 193. See more fully Cahill, Sex, Gender, and Christian Ethics, 193–94, quoting Kasper, Theology of Christian Marriage, 30. See also the cognate view of marriage offered by Porter, “Contraceptive Use and the Authority of the Church.” For the development in marital practice (in Europe) in the medieval period, see Goody, The Development of the Family and Marriage in Europe; Herlihy, Medieval Households. See also the remarks of d’Avray regarding medieval marriage sermons: “The marriage mysticism of [thirteenth-century] model sermons was of a different kind from the Bernardine [monastic] sort: more matter-of-fact, less high-flown, less about brides and bridegrooms and more about wives and husbands” (Medieval Marriage Sermons, 2). For further discussion, see d’Avray, Medieval Marriage; d’Avray, Papacy, Monarchy and Marriage; Brooke, Medieval Idea of Marriage; Parmisano, The Craft of Love.

37. Jenson, The Triune Story, 331. As Jenson puts it earlier, “[T]he analogy between the Lord’s relation to Israel and conjugal love appears early and often in Israel’s Scripture. But now, if the sexual relation of spouses can provide an analogy for the Lord’s relation to Israel, the analogy must have some impact also the other way around. And in that direction it will open as a moral opportunity: the sexual relation of spouses can be modeled on the relation of the Lord and Israel” (Triune Story, 280). This means that self-surrendering love and the healing power of the Cross will come into play, as will the fact that God’s fallen people fell, in Adam and Eve, as a primordial marital communion of persons. Indeed, this relationality belongs to the order of creation. Jenson states, “Our creation as two different kinds of bodies, paired to each other by the paired shape and function of blatant bodily phenomena, is the way God keeps our reality as communal beings from being a mere mandate or ideal, and makes it be a fact about the actual things we are” (The Triune Story, 281). Or, put more bluntly, “it is as bodies inescapably ordered to each other by vagina and penis that our adaptation to correspondence with the himself communal [i.e. triune] God is made part of what we simply and without choice are. . . . There are of course other bonds of mutuality, most of them also in one way or another bodily. But marriage is the only one that creates an actual new bodily unit—the old myth of the creature with two backs who was forcibly divided to make woman and man rested on simple observation. The two bodies envelop and enter each other in a fashion provided for not only by shape but by their function beyond pleasure, the function of this orifice and this member of maintaining God’s human creation” (The Triune Story, 282).

38. Middleton, The Liberating Image, 51.

39. Middleton, The Liberating Image, 295.

40. Lossky, In the Image and Likeness of God, 128.

41. Wright, Surprised by Hope, 208.

42. Wright, Surprised by Hope, 279.

43. Wright, Surprised by Hope, 161.

44. Walton, The Lost World of Genesis One, 87.

45. Walton, The Lost World of Genesis One, 88.

46. He cites Weinfeld’s “Sabbath, Temple and the Enthronement of the Lord.”

47. Walton, The Lost World of Genesis One, 98.

48. Walton, The Lost World of Genesis One, 123–24.

49. Ephrem the Syrian, Hymns on Paradise, Hymn III.16, p. 96.

50. Ephrem the Syrian, Hymns on Paradise, Hymn III.16, p. 96.

51. Ephrem the Syrian, Hymns on Paradise, Hymn XV.7–8, p. 184.

52. Ephrem the Syrian, Hymns on Paradise, Hymn XV.8, p. 185.

53. Ephrem the Syrian, Hymns on Paradise, Hymn XIII.13, p. 173.

54. See the historical-critical study by Perrin, Jesus the Priest. Perrin envisions Jesus’ movement as a “counter-temple movement” concerned to bring about a “renewed sacred space,” and Perrin argues that Jesus “and his followers self-consciously functioned as proleptic priests within that quest” (Jesus the Priest, 8; see also the summaries offered on 280–83). See also Barber, “The New Temple.”

55. Staniloae, The Experience of God, 150.

56. Bennett, Water Is Thicker Than Blood, 23.

57. Hsu, Singles at the Crossroads, 46–47.

58. Bennett argues that “[w]e, as members of the Household of God, should not imagine ourselves as separate either from being married or from being single, and we must live as both, in our lives as members of Christ’s body” (Water Is Thicker Than Blood, 128). I agree that Paul teaches that, given the need to focus on the coming of Christ in glory—given that “the form of this world is passing away”—“those who have wives” should “live as though they had none” (1 Cor 7:29, 31). But Paul does not mean this in a literal sense, since he has just stated, for example, that “[t]he husband should give to his wife her conjugal rights, and likewise the wife to her husband” (1 Cor 7:3). I do not see how married people could imagine themselves as not “separate . . . from being single,” or how a married person could actually live both as “single” and as “married.” After all, married people are in fact married, not single.

59. John Paul II, Redemptoris Mater, §45.

60. Bennett, Water Is Thicker Than Blood, 128–29 (emphasis added). See also Otten, “Augustine on Marriage, Monasticism, and the Community of the Church.”

61. Evdokimov, The Sacrament of Love, 73. Evdokimov delivers a rather stringent critique of Augustine and Western theologies of marriage, although he does not appear conversant with medieval (or later) adaptations of Augustine’s approach, as for example Thomas Aquinas’s. Evdokimov states, “One can see that the spring itself is muddied. Before preparing a theology from initial Biblical truths, one begins with the Fall and locks everything into the physiological, and it is from the outset that marriage appears unbalanced, marked with the wound of guilt. From this negative and prohibitive aspect, an obsession with the sexual will inevitably spring forth” (The Sacrament of Love, 25). But it seems to me that even if the Fathers (West and East) significantly overdid their critique of marital sexual intercourse, they were correct in identifying something distorted in the powerful human sexual drive (even, potentially, as it exists in marriage). Our highly pornographic culture has only confirmed their concerns.

62. Staniloae, The Sanctifying Mysteries, 176. Staniloae’s teleological vision differs from a historicist teleology that accords no value to natures or the created order. Oliver O’Donovan well describes the latter perspective: “The heart of historicism can be expressed in the thesis that all teleology is historical teleology. The concept of an ‘end’, it is held, is essentially a concept of development in time. Nothing can have a ‘point’, unless it is a historical point; there is no point in the regularities of nature as such. What we took to be natural orderings-to-serve and orderings-to-flourish within the regularities of nature are in fact something quite different: they are orderings-to-transformation, and so break out altogether from nature’s order. The natural exists only to be superseded: everything within it serves only a supernatural end, the end of history. That may be conceived as the kingdom of heaven; it may be conceived as the communist paradise; or (as especially in liberal historicism) it may be simply an undefined term of self-justifying change, receding infinitely like the horizon as we approach it. But in each case natural order and natural meanings are understood only as moments in the historical process. They are to be dissolved and reconstituted by that process, and their value lies not in any integrity of their own but in being raw material for transformation” (Resurrection and Moral Order, 58–59). Liberal moral theology grounds itself in such purely historicist teleology; and O’Donovan’s reply is instructive: “We cannot object to the idea that history should be taken seriously. A Christian response to historicism will wish to make precisely the opposite point: when history is made the categorical matrix for all meaning and value, it cannot then be taken seriously as history” (Resurrection and Moral Order, 60). As O’Donovan goes on to say, “Creation is the given totality of order which forms the presupposition of historical existence. . . . Because created order is given, because it is secure, we dare to be certain that God will vindicate it in history” (Resurrection and Moral Order, 60–61).

63. Staniloae, The Sanctifying Mysteries, 177. Staniloae adds, “The wife is the human being who is closest to her husband, and vice versa, and they are thus because they complement and complete one another. In his wife the husband possesses humanity in the highest possible degree of intimacy that can be reached with him, and the same is true of the wife with her husband. They are revealed completely the one to the other within a state of total sincerity; each is to the other as another ‘I,’ while remaining nevertheless a ‘thou’ who is necessary to the spouse if he or she is to reveal himself or herself. Each forgets the self, making himself or herself the ‘I’ of the other. . . . Thus each of the two spouses brings into reality the state for which he or she is yearning and realizes himself or herself as person in reciprocal communion. But this realization only comes about when their bodily love is penetrated by and submerged in a spiritual love” (The Sanctifying Mysteries, 178). Staniloae later comments with valuable realism that “prayer is offered on behalf of those who marry so that they may receive the grace of God for many purposes: the grace to be able to control the tendency to exclusively seek the satisfaction of the desires of the flesh, for this degrades each member of the couple to the status of an object of the other’s selfish passion; the grace to be able to curb any other type of selfishness or infidelity of one spouse in his or her relations with the other; the grace to strengthen the patient endurance of each when confronted with the limitations of the other; the grace to strengthen the will of each spouse to be of help to the other so that their love in Christ may grow deeper, something that is not possible unless the selfishness of each is brought under control; and finally, the grace of having children, which in itself is identical with the curbing of every kind of selfishness and with the progress of the couple toward the fullness of communion” (The Sanctifying Mysteries, 190). By contrast, see the heartbreaking work of Perel, The State of Affairs.

64. Schmemann, For the Life of the World, 81.

65. Schmemann, For the Life of the World, 85.

66. Ratzinger [Benedict XVI], “The Sign of the Woman,” 69. See also Schindler, “Liturgy and the Integrity of Cosmic Order,” 306 (criticizing the theological perspective of Elizabeth Johnson, C.S.J.): “what is risked in the idea of a partnership that is not innerly qualified by ‘handmaidenship’ is a slip into a kind of ontological ‘pelagianism’ that removes the Other-centeredness that lies at the core of, and accords the original and abiding meaning to, the creature’s rightful self-centeredness.”

67. Von Balthasar, “The Marian Mold of the Church,” 140.

68. Schmemann, For the Life of the World, 86.

69. Schindler, “Liturgy and the Integrity of Cosmic Order,” 295. See also Schindler, “Catholic Theology, Gender, and the Future of Western Civilization.”

70. Schmemann, For the Life of the World, 89.

71. Schmemann, For the Life of the World, 91.

72. Schmemann, For the Life of the World, 93.

73. Schmemann, For the Life of the World, 93. See also Schmemann, Introduction to Liturgical Theology, 29.

74. See for example Farley, Just Love; Salzman and Lawler, The Sexual Person. The Catholic biblical scholar John J. Collins has advanced this same basic thesis in his chapter on sexuality in his What Are Biblical Values? For a much richer analysis, see Collin, Le mariage Chrétien. The biblical material has been accurately surveyed by Gagnon, The Bible and Homosexual Practice. For a succinct summary of Scripture’s consistent perspective on homosexual acts, see Kuby, The Global Sexual Revolution, 193–94.

75. Harrington and Keenan, Paul and Virtue Ethics, 208. Keenan is identified as the “principal writer” for the chapter of the book from which this quotation is drawn (see Paul and Virtue Ethics, xiii).

76. Harrington and Keenan, Paul and Virtue Ethics, 208.

77. Keenan testified in favor of Massachusetts’s early (successful) effort to adopt same-sex marriage. See also the direction of Stephen J. Pope’s “The Magisterium’s Arguments against ‘Same-Sex Marriage’”; and Cahill, “Same-Sex Marriage and Catholicism.” Gerard Jacobitz contends, “If sexual orientation is an essential dimension of the human person, if it is not so much what a person is but who a person is, then it simply cannot be disordered” (Jacobitz, “Seminary, Priesthood, and the Vatican’s Homosexual Dilemma,” 98). This is to misunderstand the meaning of “disordered” in the technical language of Catholic moral theology. Humans, as body-soul unities, are ordered intrinsically to certain ends as constitutive of human flourishing (whether or not we consciously desire these ends). When we experience desires or commit actions that contradict our intrinsic ordering, these desires or actions are called “disordered.” See also Christopher Wolfe’s helpful “Homosexuality and the Church.” For a representative defense of the moral goodness of homosexual acts in the context of stable same-sex relationships, see Salzman and Lawler, Sexual Ethics, chapters 2 and 5. For further discussion, see my chapter on chastity (and the sources cited therein) in my Aquinas’s Eschatological Ethics and the Virtue of Temperance, and Tushnet, “O Tell Me the Truth About Love,” 26–31. From a Protestant perspective aligned with Tushnet’s, see Hill, Washed and Waiting. By contrast, for a rejection of the Church’s teaching on the grounds that the experience (understood in a particular way) of sexually active homosexual persons must be affirmed and celebrated as integral to their identity and well-being, see Gumbleton, “A Call to Listen.”

78. Martin, Building a Bridge, 16. For a cognate discussion, see Alison, “Following the Still Small Voice.” O’Gorman writes, “Many of the women I have met during my lesbian and gay ministry are vulnerable because of the hostility they have experienced from our church and our culture. They are criticized or condemned because all too frequently others see them as engaging in deviant sexual activity. Heterosexuals have often been fixated on this—as though being gay is only about having sex. But it is much deeper than that. . . . [I]t is really all about identity. It is about who I am at my core, the center of my being. It is as deep as questions about who I am as a woman or a man.” (O’Gorman and Perkins, Living True, 59). I accept that homosexual orientation is often found at the “core” and “center,” but homosexual acts are not thereby mandated or justified, for reasons I discuss more fully in my book on temperance. For further explorations in “queer” theology, see Cornwall, Controversies in Queer Theology; Méndez-Montoya, “Eucharistic Imagination.”

79. Arguably, even changing Scripture and Tradition would not solve the problem, which ultimately is rooted in our created sexual bodies that bestow unique privileges upon male-female couples. On this point, see Fastiggi, “Human Equality and Non-discrimination,” 9. See also Girgis, Anderson, and George, What Is Marriage?, 87: “Whatever the state says . . . no same-sex or group relationship will include organic bodily union, or find its inherent fulfillment in procreation, or require, quite apart from the partners’ personal preferences, what these two features demand: permanent and exclusive commitment.”

80. Martin, Building a Bridge, 18. Later in his book, Martin notes that “there are many reasons why almost no gay clergy, and almost no gay and lesbian members of religious orders, are public about their sexuality” (Building a Bridge, 42). One reason that Martin does not name, however, is that talking about one’s sexuality is not something that people generally do unless they are seeking to act upon their sexual desires. People who have taken a vow of celibacy or who have received the sacrament of marriage do not need to go around talking publicly “about their sexuality” (Building a Bridge, 42.), unless perhaps their job involves concretely instructing others in the practice of chastity.

81. David Cloutier pinpoints a fundamental element of the current situation: “The existence of sexual nature is dead; what we have left is sexual energy that we can direct in creative ways. What constitutes good sexual desire is its creativity. It has no inherent purpose other than exploration and intensification of emotions and bodily prowess” (Cloutier, Love, Reason, and God’s Story, 99). Cloutier is here responding to Grosz, “Refiguring Lesbian Desire,” 278.

82. Guroian, The Orthodox Reality, 125. Guroian goes on to explain, “Marriage is a sacrament of love but not just any sort of love. This love union is founded and grounded in God’s will, in his creative act of making humankind as male and female so that, through their love for each other and their sexual union, they may be united ‘in one flesh’” (Guroian, The Orthodox Reality, 129). He notes that when marriage is seen to depend solely on mutual love and consent (with no other criteria), then it becomes formless. As he says, “it is easy to imagine that the sorts of changes in marriage law and tax codes that the supporters of same-sex marriage have won may eventually have to be extended to other same-sex households that are not homosexual. How can the state possibly discriminate—or even ask the questions needed to discriminate—between homosexual and heterosexual couples of the same sex that come to get licensed? How can the state differentiate one love from another? If marriage is no longer defined as strictly between a man and a woman, why shouldn’t widows or widowers or brothers or sisters who live together for mutual assistance and economic reasons be granted licenses for domestic partnerships with all the legal benefits and protections now accorded to married couples?” (Guroian, The Orthodox Reality, 130). See also the contention of Adriano Oliva, O.P. in his L’amicizia più grande that for Thomas Aquinas the essence of marriage does not include the sexual act. Numerous scholars have responded, showing that this claim (which is ludicrous on its face) rests upon profound misunderstandings. See for example Blankenhorn et al., “Aquinas and Homosexuality,” and Casanova and Serrano del Pozo, “Being and Operation of Mary’s Marriage.”

83. Guroian, The Orthodox Reality, 132; see also 133–38. Notably, Guroian ties this point to the fact that “Christ is the groom and the church is his bride of the new creation. The referent of the groom is the first man, Adam, and the referent of the bride is the first woman, Eve. The nuptial Adam-Eve humanity of the book of Genesis, the first book of the Bible, is the analogue of the heavenly nuptials of the marriage of the Lamb in the book of Revelation (19:7), the last book of the Bible. The creation of nuptial humanity is an epiphany of the eternal humanity of God precedent to its complete revelation in the incarnation. The creation of nuptial humanity is a prophecy of the church, which itself, through its nuptial union with Christ, fulfills the goal and purpose of creation. Human willing and choosing cannot change marriage’s essence or the symbolism that God has ordained for it. Thus in the Orthodox faith there could never be such a thing as same-sex marriage. There is not a same-sex equivalent to bride and groom. To insist that there are such equivalencies and to act on this error not only represents marriage as something it is not but also envisions salvation as something it is not. And because same-sex marriage contradicts the church’s understanding of salvation, specifically of marriage as restoration of the divine image in nuptial humanity, it is a grave heresy” (Guroian, The Orthodox Reality, 135–36).

84. Bouyer, The Seat of Wisdom, 199.

85. For discussion see Fagerberg, Consecrating the World, 83.