Earthly Education For Heavenly Heights

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

1 Corinthians 13:13

HENRY DRUMMOND (1851–1897) WROTE A REMARKABLE LITTLE CLASSIC titled The Greatest Thing in the World in which he pointed out that when Paul defined love in his letter to the Corinthians, he was referring to how we treat people. This emphasis on loving other people, Drummond believed, is a thread throughout the New Testament: “We hear much of love to God; Christ spoke much of love to man.”^a

Drummond argued that if love is the greatest thing, then it should be the primary pursuit of our lives:

The supreme work to which we need to address ourselves in this world [is] to learn Love. Is life not full of opportunities for learning Love? Every man and woman every day has a thousand of them. The world is not a playground; it is a schoolroom. Life is not a holiday, but an education. And the one eternal lesson for us all is how better we can love.^b

Marriage is a primary place where people learn this—through lots of practice. People improve in athletics through practice; we improve in music, writing, and cooking through practice. We practice in order to overcome our failure and inadequacies. Drummond stressed the importance of practice:

If a man does not exercise his arm, he develops no biceps muscle; and if a man does not exercise his soul, he acquires no muscle in his soul, no strength of character, no vigor of moral fiber, nor beauty of spiritual growth. Love is not a thing of enthusiastic emotion. It is a rich, strong, manly, vigorous expression of the whole round Christian character—the Christ-like nature in its fullest development. And the constituents of this great character are only to be built up by ceaseless practice.^c

This is so good I have to repeat it: the love we seek is not “a thing of enthusiastic emotion” but rather a Christlike character “built up by ceaseless practice.” Thus, marriage is about learning to adopt “the greatest thing in the world” by practicing our ability to love while living with a sinner.

Marriage is a primary place where people learn this—through lots of practice.

In the first flush of infatuation, lovelike activity comes spontaneously. It gushes out of us. We say nice things, we buy presents, we write encouragements, we are eager and creative lovers, we do all the things that make someone feel special. Why? Because “enthusiastic emotion” moves us to do so. But if we stop loving when the feelings fade, we reveal that we are motivated by mere emotions more than by God’s call on our lives, that we pay more attention to feelings than to Christ’s glorious invitation to love as he loved.

If we dodge this character-producing practice by running to divorce court or by pouting and withdrawing into silent marriages, our hearts start to calcify spiritually. Our hearts shrink instead of enlarge, and we reinforce the selfishness that already screams for pride of place. But if we practice loving—even when we don’t feel like it—our hearts bulge with God’s goodness and generosity until love becomes the natural expression and response to God’s work in our lives.

That’s why infatuation doesn’t really teach us to love. Only marriage can do that. Infatuation comes naturally—it is innate, no practice required. But a marriage is built on the bedrock of many considered decisions: Will I love, or will I hold a grudge? Will I serve, or will I be selfish? Will I notice this person, or will I retreat into my own world? Will I please my spouse, or will I draw pleasure from ignoring him [or her]? Marriage reveals and then purifies our motivations in a way that infatuation never can.

In fact, if our hearts are right and if we truly desire to become like Christ, we won’t resent the challenges of marriage but will welcome them instead. Drummond gave this sound advice:

Do not quarrel . . . with your lot in life. Do not complain of its never-ceasing cares, its petty environment, the vexations you have to stand, the small and sordid souls you have to live and work with. . . . That is the practice which God appoints you; and it is having its work in making you patient, and humble, and generous, and unselfish, and kind, and courteous. Do not grudge the hand that is molding the still too shapeless image within you. It is growing more beautiful though you see it not, and every touch of temptation may add to its perfection. Therefore keep in the midst of life [and marriage!]. Do not isolate yourself. Be among men, and among things, and among troubles, and difficulties, and obstacles.^d

Certain elements of the Christian faith must be developed in solitude. The traditional disciplines of fasting, prayer, study, and meditation are necessary building blocks—but Christian character requires community. Marriage can give us this community, and more. It can usher us into the greatest thing in the world—by providing us, every day, the practice field on which we can learn how to love.