Thoughts on crossing borders

I don’t enjoy crossing international borders. Every time I drive back into Canada after visiting the States, I drive merrily up to the border guard, dutifully remove my sunglasses, and roll down the window. Then, suddenly and inexplicably, my brain turns to mush. I get tongue-tied and can’t respond intelligently to anything the guard asks me.

Where do you live? Where do I live? What does he mean? Does he want to know the country or city? Maybe he wants my street name! I clear my throat and manage a weak response: Winnipeg? My uncertainty elicits a raised eyebrow on the guard’s face.

When did you enter the U.S.? When? Such a vague question! Is he asking for a date or an exact time? I can’t remember what time it was when my husband and I began our journey two days ago! Confused, I tell him I don’t know.

Now the guard is suspicious and orders me to pull over. All this because I got tongue-tied in a simple conversation at the border.

The divorce frontier

The church can also get tongue-tied when moving into new territory. Crossing the border into the world of divorce is one such time.

We’re certain that God hates divorce, so we advocate for stronger marriages. We preach sermons about the importance of staying faithful to our wedding vows. We offer premarital counselling. We lobby the government for healthy marriage legislation. We remind couples contemplating divorce that God wants their relationship to be restored. And so we should.

But it’s hard to cross to the other side – to the place where marriages fail. It’s difficult to know what to say to people who are actually experiencing the pain of a broken covenant. Often, we fall silent.

We also condemn. In the past, Mennonite Brethren excommunicated couples who violated their marriage covenant. At that time, congregations made little effort to restore the individuals into fellowship.

A painful crossing

The sin of divorce, it seems, is easier to confront than the pain of divorce. Perhaps it’s because grief is messy and complicated. Answers are unclear. Forgiveness is difficult. We’re afraid of getting sucked into someone else’s tragic story. So we pretend divorce doesn’t exist within the walls of the church, under the sunrays filtering through beautiful stained glass.

However, when we fall silent, we abandon our call to compassion. We communicate condemnation rather than hope. We abdicate our position of influence in the world.

When we fail to acknowledge the reality of failed marriage, we allow the world to hijack the divorce agenda. Popular media says divorce is entertaining, a reason for celebration, and downright acceptable. Splashy headlines gleefully list all the movie stars who’ve recently filed for divorce. Maclean’s magazine reports that women feel happiness and relief after divorcing their husbands of more than 20 years. There’s not a tinge of sadness. And there’s little talk about the real tragedy in the lives of the couple, their children, and extended family and friends.

It’s time for the church to respond. It’s time for us to weep in the face of human sin and failure. It’s time to proclaim the gospel message of healing and restoration.

This month’s Herald explores how the church can enter the world of divorce with both truth and compassion (1 Corinthians 13:1–3). It asks how we can minister to families facing the hopelessness, rejection, and uncertainty of failed marriage. It asks how we can help people make a fresh start.

When we interact with families of divorce, will we get tongue-tied and sink into silence? Will we voice disapproval? Or will we speak the words of hope needed at this painful border crossing in life?