P
Psych77
Guest
I have a blog, but this seems a more appropriate place for something I have to say.
For the last year and a half, my wife and I have not been talking - per her request - beyond the functional communication that is necessary to co-parent and live in the same house. We sleep separately in the same house, so that we can both raise the children. It is emotional pain beyond anything I had ever imagined could be. But living this life has made me aware of the heroism of those divorced people in the Catholic Church who remain faithful to the Lord’s teaching - I am referring particularly to those who have no grounds for annulment.
Please do not think that I am in any way billing myself as a hero. I have always struggled - hard - against sins of impurity, and since my wife and I are separated far more so (I won’t give you details here, as this would be a long tangent). I have not been as faithful as I was called to be. But this hardship has given me occasion to realize how many times I have shared a pew with a hero of faith without doing anything to share the weight of his or her cross. I am beginning to realize that these people bear a load that few of us can imagine without having experienced it ourselves (and may God save as many as possible from experiencing it).
These people provide an example for all of us, especially for those who stand against the Church’s tough teachings on the permanence and exclusivity of marriage. Those people frequently accuse us of imposing rigorous teachings on others from an ivory tower. They see us as a Church consisting of vowed celibates and happily married couples, who bear none of the hardships of those who must suffer divorce, and then, since we needn’t bear the pain ourselves, callously forbid these poor people from seeking happiness with a new partner, imposing, they suppose, a hard lot which we would never endorse if we had to bear the hardship ourselves.
The faithful divorced Catholic stands up to this argument. Through their own profoundly personal suffering, they can answer: “I know the hardship. I also know the pain of a husband who is abusive, who cheats with no intention of stopping, the wife who looks down on me and derides me in front of he children, believing she is justified and therefore does not need to change. I know the heartbreak of failing, over and over, to stop minor conflicts from turning into fights, and fights becoming devastating, until we both feel shattered, and our children frightened and insecure. I know the pain of seeing the one person who knows you best on earth, the one person you relied on to love you unconditionally, reject you utterly, and start to say things meant to hurt you. I know what it is like to go to one well meaning friend, priest, marriage therapist, to another, earnestly seeking help, trying to change, and finding myself unable to ever make quite enough change to make things better. I know the depths of despair to which a person has to drop before they finally accept that a relationship is destructive and are willing to let go. I know what it is like to be profoundly, heart-breakingly lonely, having lost the one who was supposed to be your family, but who is now gone. But I also know what it is to make a permanent commitment. I know that some things are more important than what I want. I know what it is to believe in a God Who loves me, and Who always directs me to do what is best for me, regardless of what it seems like to me. I know what it is to trust Him for this, and so to obey submissively, even if He tells me to embrace a devastatingly painful reality. I know what it is to follow Christ; a greater Love than the one I lost. And however painful His command may be for me right now, to follow Him is worth it.”
And to make that statement involves more pain than just what is quoted there. It involves more rejection than just that of the spouse.
The Catholic divorcee is rejected by the world around him/her. Ironically, this world which is so sympathetic and indulgent toward most divorcees has no place for the faithful Catholic afflicted with divorce. If he/she tries to relax and take the mind off the hardship, where can one go, in TV, movies and literature, and not be reminded of our society’s insistence that romantic love and, increasingly, sex, is the ultimate goal of all life, the only thing that makes life worth the effort. Popular culture provides no recognition of other aspects of life affording fulfillment - at least not sufficient fulfillment - without romantic affection and sexual gratification. Even among those others who have also divorced, a faithful Catholic divorcee will find little support. Reactions to the Catholic’s acceptance that he or she must remain celibate thereafter range from “You’re letting yourself be victimized, throwing the rest of your life away like that,” to a patronizing, “Well, that’s fine for now, but some day you will heal from this divorce and realize that to be healthy you need to move on and find another romantic partner.”
(Continued)
For the last year and a half, my wife and I have not been talking - per her request - beyond the functional communication that is necessary to co-parent and live in the same house. We sleep separately in the same house, so that we can both raise the children. It is emotional pain beyond anything I had ever imagined could be. But living this life has made me aware of the heroism of those divorced people in the Catholic Church who remain faithful to the Lord’s teaching - I am referring particularly to those who have no grounds for annulment.
Please do not think that I am in any way billing myself as a hero. I have always struggled - hard - against sins of impurity, and since my wife and I are separated far more so (I won’t give you details here, as this would be a long tangent). I have not been as faithful as I was called to be. But this hardship has given me occasion to realize how many times I have shared a pew with a hero of faith without doing anything to share the weight of his or her cross. I am beginning to realize that these people bear a load that few of us can imagine without having experienced it ourselves (and may God save as many as possible from experiencing it).
These people provide an example for all of us, especially for those who stand against the Church’s tough teachings on the permanence and exclusivity of marriage. Those people frequently accuse us of imposing rigorous teachings on others from an ivory tower. They see us as a Church consisting of vowed celibates and happily married couples, who bear none of the hardships of those who must suffer divorce, and then, since we needn’t bear the pain ourselves, callously forbid these poor people from seeking happiness with a new partner, imposing, they suppose, a hard lot which we would never endorse if we had to bear the hardship ourselves.
The faithful divorced Catholic stands up to this argument. Through their own profoundly personal suffering, they can answer: “I know the hardship. I also know the pain of a husband who is abusive, who cheats with no intention of stopping, the wife who looks down on me and derides me in front of he children, believing she is justified and therefore does not need to change. I know the heartbreak of failing, over and over, to stop minor conflicts from turning into fights, and fights becoming devastating, until we both feel shattered, and our children frightened and insecure. I know the pain of seeing the one person who knows you best on earth, the one person you relied on to love you unconditionally, reject you utterly, and start to say things meant to hurt you. I know what it is like to go to one well meaning friend, priest, marriage therapist, to another, earnestly seeking help, trying to change, and finding myself unable to ever make quite enough change to make things better. I know the depths of despair to which a person has to drop before they finally accept that a relationship is destructive and are willing to let go. I know what it is like to be profoundly, heart-breakingly lonely, having lost the one who was supposed to be your family, but who is now gone. But I also know what it is to make a permanent commitment. I know that some things are more important than what I want. I know what it is to believe in a God Who loves me, and Who always directs me to do what is best for me, regardless of what it seems like to me. I know what it is to trust Him for this, and so to obey submissively, even if He tells me to embrace a devastatingly painful reality. I know what it is to follow Christ; a greater Love than the one I lost. And however painful His command may be for me right now, to follow Him is worth it.”
And to make that statement involves more pain than just what is quoted there. It involves more rejection than just that of the spouse.
The Catholic divorcee is rejected by the world around him/her. Ironically, this world which is so sympathetic and indulgent toward most divorcees has no place for the faithful Catholic afflicted with divorce. If he/she tries to relax and take the mind off the hardship, where can one go, in TV, movies and literature, and not be reminded of our society’s insistence that romantic love and, increasingly, sex, is the ultimate goal of all life, the only thing that makes life worth the effort. Popular culture provides no recognition of other aspects of life affording fulfillment - at least not sufficient fulfillment - without romantic affection and sexual gratification. Even among those others who have also divorced, a faithful Catholic divorcee will find little support. Reactions to the Catholic’s acceptance that he or she must remain celibate thereafter range from “You’re letting yourself be victimized, throwing the rest of your life away like that,” to a patronizing, “Well, that’s fine for now, but some day you will heal from this divorce and realize that to be healthy you need to move on and find another romantic partner.”
(Continued)