Month: May 2019

Although it was published roughly 15 years ago, Emerson Eggerichs’ Love and Respect remains a popular marriage book among evangelicals. The premise of the book is that women desire love above all else and that men need respect. Eggerichs’ solution to marriage problems is for women to unconditionally respect their husbands and men to unconditionally love their wives. This is drawn from Ephesians 5:33: “Each of you, however, should love his wife as himself, and a wife should respect her husband.” Eggerichs believes this shows what wives and husbands need from each other, as well as what comes most naturally to them. (Men are not commanded to respect, because they are naturally respectful. Women are naturally loving.)

There are many good critiques of Love and Respect out there, including concerns about how it portrays sex and about the way it encourages women to tolerate abuse.

I’d like to focus on one facet of the book: the notion that respect can be separated from love.

Would you rather have love but no respect or respect but no love?

Eggerichs claims that, if they had to choose between love and respect, women would choose love. Men would choose respect.

But this presents a false choice. Such choices do not occur in the real world. More importantly, while you can respect someone without loving them, you cannot love a person if you have no respect for them.

Don’t believe me? Check out some of the synonyms for disrespect: contempt, disdain, scorn. Even some of the softer synonyms, such as rudeness, are not signs of love, as the Bible itself says (1 Corinthians 13:5).

If my husband told me that he loved me but didn’t respect me, I wouldn’t believe that he loved me. And if I told my husband that I respected him but did not love him, I wouldn’t blame him if he asked me for a divorce.

Square peg, round hole

Eggerichs is so determined to make his idea fit the fabric of reality that it feels like he’s forcing it. He’s intent on teasing love and respect apart, assigning one to women and the other to men. He fails to see how respect is inseparable from love, how both men and women need love and respect, and how neither quality necessarily comes naturally to people of a certain gender.

One of his stories in the book illustrates this well. In his words, his wife “complained about every crumb on the counter, every shoe on the floor, every wet towel left on the bed, every candy wrapper that missed the wastebasket.” She “saw the light” when she returned from a trip and realized her family was happy not to have to hear her tell them to clean up after themselves.

Of course, I was not present to see how this played out. Maybe his wife was overly critical. Maybe she was unkind in the way she expressed herself. None of us, men or women, appreciate being criticized continually or harshly.

But look at things from her perspective. What messages were family members sending with their inability to simply pick up after themselves, getting their trash into the trashcan, hanging up their towels, and putting away their shoes? “We see you as a maid. Your job is to pick up after us. We don’t have enough respect for you to put forth the little bit it effort it takes to clean up our own messes.”

Their behavior could be seen as both disrespectful and unloving. Eggerichs’ wife resented it and responded accordingly. She may not have responded in a way conducive to helping him change, but the fact that she was upset by disrespectful and unloving behavior should surprise no one.

Do complementarian men respect women?

Eggerichs makes it clear he is a complementarian as he draws distinctions between men and women. Complementarians believe that men and women have different but complementary roles.  Although men and women are equal in God’s eyes, men are the natural leaders. Through the lens of complementarianism, the biblical word “helpmate” (ezer cenegdo in Hebrew) means that the woman’s role is subservient to the man’s. She is there to play the supporting role in his life story.

Egalitarians interpret ezer cenegdo differently. They point out that the word ezer implies power to help, not inferiority; in fact, there are multiple instances in which God is referred to as Israel’s ezer. The word cenegdo implies equality. In this interpretation of “helpmate,” the woman is the man’s powerful equal. Being a geek, I imagine the two standing back to back, swords drawn. They have each other’s backs. The woman doesn’t play the supporting role in the man’s story. Both husband and wife are equal partners.

It’s easy to see a correspondence between Eggerichs’ views about the roles of men and women and his lack of concern for how his wife felt about his messiness. Because woman was created by God to be man’s “helpmate,” it follows that she shouldn’t complain about her husband’s inability to hang up his towel or get his trash in the trashcan. She is there for him. Why should he care if she’s constantly picking up after him?

I’m sure there are women in complementarian marriages who feel respected by their husbands, but I think that’s because they have good husbands, not because the complementarian view of men and women is good.. If wives exist for their husbands, then their own hopes, dreams, goals, and desires don’t matter. This is hardly a recipe for respectful treatment of women.

Love matters to men, too

I’ve focused on the way Eggerichs separates respect and love, but I want to make it clear that his notions are not only unfair to women, they’re unfair to men. Google “wife doesn’t love me anymore” and then tell me that men don’t care about being loved.. Look at Eggerichs’ list of “how to spell love to your wife” and tell me that men don’t also want things like openness, understanding, peacemaking, and loyalty.

Want to make a difference? I am speaking especially to the evangelical community here: Don’t buy into the notions of this book and ones like it. When we try to force men and women into rigid boxes, as Eggerichs does here, we do them a disservice. Want a good marriage? Work on loving and respecting each other — regardless of gender differences.

 

When someone says, “I’m spiritual, not religious,” they usually mean that they have a spiritual life without ties to a particular religious institution. They may be fed up with religious hypocrisy or feel that they don’t fit in with any particular group. They may dislike the strictures of worshiping in a particular place at a particular time with a particular group of people. Whatever the reason, they’ve rejected organized religion but not the notion of spiritual experiences.

The first time I heard someone say the opposite — “I’m religious, not spiritual” — that person went on to clarify what she meant. Religion caused her to love actively (my words, not hers). It was why she might show up at your door with a casserole if you were a new mom. She didn’t think she’d feel this same call to action if she identified as spiritual rather than religious.

Google “religious but not spiritual,” and you’ll find riffs on that theme. The people who write about being “religious but not spiritual” believe that religion calls us into community and into action. For them, the danger of spirituality is a lack of connection to others. Religion leads them to express love through concrete actions.

“Spiritual but not religious” people have a point when they complain about hypocrisy or empty religious rituals. But people in the “religious but not spiritual” camp are right to point out that our spiritual impulses must manifest themselves in action. Spirituality and religion are nothing but feel-good emotions if they are not bathed in the particularities of service to others.

A recent viral post shines a light on something that far too many mothers have experienced: the feeling of isolation that can occur when no one steps in to help (and, I might add, when fathers do not step up to their fair share of parenting tasks, which is not “helping,” it’s being a dad). The person who created the post shared about a family party they witnessed, during which a mother was left on her own to entertain her baby. “Either no one noticed the subtle work she was doing,” the poster wrote, “or no one wanted to give up their enjoyment to let her have a taste of it too.”

I’m sure this woman’s family would say they loved her, but at that moment she needed someone to show it. She needed someone to share the work of childcare so that she could be a part of the celebration. (Some comments on this post point out that the woman could have asked for help. While they are right, I understand why she may have been hesitant to do so. When my child was small, I was afraid of “using up” an invisible, finite pool of help available to me. I didn’t ask for help because I was storing up my requests in case I experienced a real crisis.)

I’m not trying to condemn anyone who calls themselves spiritual or religious… or neither of those things. But if we aren’t living out whatever we believe through concrete actions, how meaningful is our love? Let’s commit to an active love that serves others.