When I was a student, I lived in a dormitory and received a small stipend — and that’s what I lived on. We ate buckwheat with ketchup, or rice with mayonnaise, and only on special occasions could we and our friends make it out to a McDonald’s, which back then was practically the equivalent of a fancy restaurant.
One time a group of us came in from choir, and everyone ordered something. While we waited for one another, someone’s food went cold, and one of the girls decided to ask them to reheat her burger. She went up to the counter: “could you warm this up, please — it’s gone cold.” The worker took the little box, looked at the burger, threw it in the bin without a word, and handed her a new one. It actually killed her appetite. “If I’d known,” she said, “I’d have just finished the old one.”
It struck me too. For a student every penny counts — and here was a whole burger in the trash. But that is the spirit of our age in a nutshell. In the old days, when something broke, you took it in for repair. Today it’s simpler to throw the broken thing out and get a new one. And without noticing it, we have come to treat one of the greatest treasures in life — marriage — the same way. Got hard? Lost its shine? — throw it out, find a new one.
But what if marriage is not a thing you can throw away? What if God designed marriage in a completely different way? Let’s read the seventh chapter of First Corinthians.
To the married I give this charge (not I, but the Lord): the wife should not separate from her husband (but if she does, she should remain unmarried or else be reconciled to her husband), and the husband should not divorce his wife. To the rest I say (I, not the Lord) that if any brother has a wife who is an unbeliever, and she consents to live with him, he should not divorce her. If any woman has a husband who is an unbeliever, and he consents to live with her, she should not divorce him. For the unbelieving husband is made holy because of his wife, and the unbelieving wife is made holy because of her husband. Otherwise your children would be unclean, but as it is, they are holy. But if the unbelieving partner separates, let it be so. In such cases the brother or sister is not enslaved. God has called you to peace. For how do you know, wife, whether you will save your husband? Or how do you know, husband, whether you will save your wife? (1 Cor. 7:10–16)
Context
First, let’s remember what we have been talking about and how we got here. Paul is writing a letter to the Corinthian church, which he himself founded — about the various problems it had. Despite the name “First Corinthians,” this was most likely not his first letter to them. The first four chapters he devoted to unity, divisions, and factions. Beginning with chapter five, Paul turns to practical questions of the Christian life, and in chapters six and seven he addresses marriage, singleness, and intimacy.
The whole of chapter seven is a reply to a letter the Corinthians had written to Paul. There was correspondence between them, and part of it has come down to us, having entered the canon of Scripture. The Corinthian church sent Paul their questions — about marriage, about intimacy, about singleness — and he answers them one by one.
And here is what is striking. In one and the same church two utterly opposite views of the body coexisted — we have spoken of this before. Some said, “Food is meant for the stomach and the stomach for food” (6:13). In other words: the body is made for pleasure — do with it what you want and with whom you want. That is how those who went off to prostitutes after the gathering reasoned, seeing no sin in it. Others said the exact opposite: “It is good for a man not to touch a woman” (7:1). That is, intimacy defiles, and whoever wants to be truly spiritual must abstain — even within his own marriage.
These are two extremes, and both are unbiblical. God nowhere says “anything goes for the body.” And God nowhere says “the body is defilement.” God created man in a body and gave spouses the ability to delight in one another within the context of marriage. Both extremes ruin God’s beautiful design. So in chapter seven Paul answers both at once. And from verse ten he turns to the most painful question of all — divorce.
1. The Lord’s Covenant
What does divorce have to do with it? Just this: some especially “spiritual” Christians, having wrongly concluded that the body and all intimacy defile, decided to abstain — and, in a burst of this “holiness,” even to divorce a husband so he wouldn’t get in the way. And here is what Paul says to them:
To the married I give this charge (not I, but the Lord): the wife should not separate from her husband (but if she does, she should remain unmarried or else be reconciled to her husband), and the husband should not divorce his wife. (1 Cor. 7:10–11)
Look at the very first words: “not I, but the Lord.” Paul steps aside, as it were, and says: this is not my opinion. If you want to know what I think — it is no different from what Jesus said. This is not just a pastor’s advice that you can hear out and set aside. Behind these words stands the Lord Jesus himself, who taught about this plainly (Mark 10; Matt. 19).
And what did Jesus say?
And Pharisees came up to him and tested him by asking, “Is it lawful to divorce one’s wife for any cause?” He answered, “Have you not read that he who created them from the beginning made them male and female, and said, ‘Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh’? So they are no longer two but one flesh. What therefore God has joined together, let not man separate.” (Matt. 19:3–6)
In this passage it says the Pharisees were testing Jesus with this question. Their test was to get Jesus to answer about divorce in a deeply unpopular way. They knew how he would answer, and they knew that answer would please no one. But Jesus did not chase popularity and did not bend the truth to suit what people would like. He answered firmly and directly: you cannot divorce for any cause you please, because it is precisely God who joins people together in marriage, and what God has joined, man may not separate. A man has no right to tear up this covenant on a whim. Yes, Jesus does name one exception — for “sexual immorality” one may divorce; but we will come back to unfaithfulness in the second point.
And Paul in Corinthians simply repeats what Christ said. Two simple things. First: the wife is not to separate from her husband, and the husband is not to leave his wife. He is addressing believers: if two believing people have entered marriage, they have no grounds whatsoever for divorce. Full stop. Do not separate. Do not leave.
Usually after this we hear “but what if…” followed by a great many “weighty” reasons why one must divorce. Paul answers these “what ifs” too. In the event that a divorce has, for some reason, already happened, only two paths remain: either remain single, or be reconciled to the husband. A third path — a new marriage — is not here. Why? Because in God’s eyes that union is not dissolved. And notice: here Paul is speaking of two believers, a husband and wife who both know the Lord. The marriage where only one believes he will address a little further down.
“Too Harsh”
And do you know what’s interesting? The Pharisees were right: no one likes this answer of Jesus’ or these words of Paul’s, which seem far too harsh. “That’s too rigid a position” — so thinks the world. And it is very sad that it is not only the world that thinks so. We think so too, we people in the church. Out loud we do not argue with Jesus, but in our hearts we quietly demote his command to a kindly suggestion.
When I first heard that friends of mine — Christians — were getting divorced, something lurched in my heart. I knew them well, we had served together — and suddenly I learn they want a divorce. It was something unthinkable. But now I run out of fingers on one hand counting how many Christian acquaintances are divorced or on the brink of it.
“Divorce is bad, of course,” we say. “Of course you should try to save the marriage. But if it really just didn’t work out — well, these things happen.” And so the Lord’s command quietly turns into a wish, and a prohibition into a recommendation. “Do not divorce” becomes a soft “it would be good to try not to divorce.” And a wish, unlike a command, will always find a loophole.
Even Jesus’ disciples reacted this way. When he told them marriage is indissoluble, they answered, “If such is the case of a man with his wife, it is better not to marry” (Matt. 19:10). Maybe someone here is thinking the same thing right now? “It’s just too harsh… What if I made a mistake in my choice? What if the feelings died long ago? What if we’ve simply become strangers? What if someone far better has appeared on the horizon?” Is there really no way out?
It is an honest question. And Scripture answers it honestly. But to hear the answer, you need to understand one very important word.
What a Covenant Is
That word is covenant. In God’s eyes marriage is not a contract, although people almost always think of marriage precisely as a contract; they even draw up marriage contracts. But what is a contract? A contract is a deal. “You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.” I invest as long as I get something in return. A contract protects my interest. But the moment the other party stops fulfilling the terms, the agreement is dissolved — and I am free.
And over the course of life much of what we entered marriage with changes. Appearance changes. Flowers are no longer given. Compliments give way to criticisms. Romance yields to chores and endless to-do lists. There’s extra weight, gray hair, wrinkles. The flaws you didn’t notice while dating come out: his stubbornness, her nagging, his silence, her tears. Children are born — and you both collapse from exhaustion. Money is tight, work weighs you down, debts pile up. Illness comes. There’s less and less in common — conversations only about chores and kids. Passion cools, and in its place all that’s left is habit.
And you look at all of this and conclude that the marriage no longer brings any benefit. And a desire arises to dissolve the contract, because it is no longer profitable. Because at the heart of a contract there is always one question: “what’s in it for me?”
But a covenant is something altogether different. A covenant is not “what will I get.” A covenant is “I am yours… forever.” It is a vow I make before God. And it binds me not as long as I’m happy, but until death itself. At the altar we promise to be together “for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do us part.” This is not the language of a deal. This is the language of covenant.
So Scripture says. Proverbs calls marriage a covenant outright. Of the unfaithful wife it says that she “forgets the covenant of her God” (Prov. 2:17) — the covenant she made before God when she married.
The Paperclip and the Glue
Genesis says the two become “one flesh” (Gen. 2:24) — not partners in an agreement, but one whole. There are two ways to join two sheets of paper. You can use a paperclip: clip them together and it holds, but the sheets remain two separate objects that happen to be next to each other. Remove the clip and they come apart, each intact, without a scratch. That is a contract. A clasp you can always remove, with each party taking back its own.
Or you can glue the sheets together. Spread the glue, press them, let it dry — and just try to separate them now. It won’t come apart cleanly: both will tear, and on each will remain scraps of the other. That is a covenant. God designed marriage not as a paperclip — it says, “hold fast to his wife.” A covenant is the joining of two into one, forever.
Why Marriages Fall Apart
Then why do marriages fall apart? Why do Christian marriages fall apart? We love to explain it with the words “we just weren’t compatible,” “we discovered we were incompatible.” But that is rarely the truth. The real root goes deeper: we treat the covenant like a contract. We entered marriage with the question “what will I get out of this” — and one day decided we were getting too little. And underneath this lie two things: false expectations and selfishness.
Expectations
You know, it is a great joy to watch new families being formed. This year we have a wedding planned in our church, and we hope many more will follow; we have, thank God, a lot of young people.
I remember that wonderful season of my own life, when you’re in love and do everything you can to be liked. You dress nicely, you smell good, and you even brush your teeth. You always try to speak well and beautifully, you give compliments, bring flowers, write poems, and promise to pull the stars down from the sky. Ask any couple on the eve of their wedding what flaws they see in each other — I think they’d be hard pressed to answer. Right now they are showing each other the best versions of themselves, and it’s hard for them to speak of each other’s flaws, because they don’t yet live together and know only the advertised side.
My wife couldn’t find a single flaw in me before the wedding. Funnily enough, for a whole year after the wedding she still couldn’t name one. Either I tried too hard, or she wasn’t paying attention. But let me reassure everyone: all is well now — after 17 years of marriage she can readily produce a whole list of my flaws. And that’s normal, that’s to be expected. It doesn’t mean I’m not working to correct them; it means marriage is a shared process, where something occasionally breaks but is then mended together.
Young people, it is important for you to have the right expectations. You will never find a prince on a white horse or an ideal princess. Why? Because they don’t exist — even if it seems to you right now that he or she is perfect. No, far from perfect! After the wedding it will turn out that this prince or princess doesn’t always dress nicely, smell good, and brush their teeth; doesn’t always give compliments, and may even sometimes wound you with thoughtless words. Because you are both sinners.
Paul Tripp wrote a wonderful book, What Did You Expect?, whose central thought is that “marriage is the union of two sinners.” And sinners sin. And if you enter marriage expecting the other person to meet all your needs and fulfill all your dreams — you are entering an illusion. And one day it will shatter.
And here is a word to those who are only just thinking about marriage, who are young and in love. Enter it with the right expectations. Marriage is not the finish line, not the prize where at last everything becomes perfect. Marriage is a shared and difficult road of two sinners, one that requires patience, labor, and commitment. And when something breaks, you don’t throw the covenant out — you mend it.
Selfishness
To those who are now in a hard marriage and secretly think more and more often about divorce, I will speak plainly. And let me say at once: I am not talking about those who have been sinned against — through unfaithfulness or cruelty; we’ll speak of them later. I am speaking of the one who wants to leave simply because it has become hard and unrewarding.
Divorce will not solve your problem. If you are thinking about divorce, the problem is not only in your partner. The problem is in you too, because you do not know how to mend what is broken. Your selfishness will go with you into the next marriage as well. And in the process of divorce the sheets will be torn. You will gain nothing, but lose much. You will get divorced, marry again — and in a few years you will be sitting with the same heart and the same grievances, only across from you will be a different person.
Don’t Leave
Because the issue is not whom you chose. Nor is it that you may think you made a mistake in your choice. In a covenant there is no such mistake — God himself joined you together, and the one with you now is your person. Marriage is not your contract. Marriage is the Lord’s covenant. And this covenant was not made by you — it was made by the Lord. You did not sign an agreement to be dissolved the moment it became unprofitable — you entered a covenant with which God bound you. And since the Lord made it, it is not yours to tear apart. Marriage is a covenant made by God. Therefore — do not leave.
2. The Covenant of Faithfulness
In verses 10–11 Paul spoke of two believers in marriage — a husband and wife who both know the Lord. And he tells them what Jesus tells them: if they are both believers, they have not a single reason to divorce. But now Paul takes up a far harder case. What if only one believes? What if a person came to faith while already married — and his wife or her husband remained an unbeliever?
In Corinth this happened all the time: one would be converted, the other not; there were many mixed marriages there. So it is with us too. And the question arises: “Is divorce permitted in this case?” Can you divorce when one believes and the other does not? After all, if in marriage the two become one flesh, and the other is an unbeliever, doesn’t that defile me? Maybe it’s better to divorce in order to stay holy? — the Corinthians asked. Let’s hear what Paul answers.
To the rest I say (I, not the Lord) that if any brother has a wife who is an unbeliever, and she consents to live with him, he should not divorce her. If any woman has a husband who is an unbeliever, and he consents to live with her, she should not divorce him. … But if the unbelieving partner separates, let it be so. In such cases the brother or sister is not enslaved. God has called you to peace. (1 Cor. 7:12–13, 15)
“I, Not the Lord”
And again Paul begins strangely: “To the rest I say (I, not the Lord).” Wait a second. A moment ago it was “not I, but the Lord” — and now “I, not the Lord”? Does this mean that what follows is merely Paul’s opinion, which you can take or leave?
No. Paul is not setting his word against God’s word. He is simply being honest: on this particular case Jesus gave no direct word during his earthly life. Jesus was not asked about mixed marriages, and he did not answer such a question. But now the apostle — whom Christ himself sent and to whom he gave his Spirit — speaks in his name and clarifies, for this specific situation, the very same principles Jesus spoke of. This is not “Paul’s personal opinion.” It is still God’s command — it is simply being voiced here for the first time, through the apostle.
Don’t Be the First to Leave
And here is the command itself. If a brother has an unbelieving wife and she consents to live with him — let him not leave her. If a wife has an unbelieving husband and he consents to live with her — let her not leave him. What is Paul getting at? At what chapter seven began with. He is answering those same “especially spiritual” Corinthians who wrote to him, “it is good for a man not to touch a woman” — and decided: “the pagan defiles me, I’ll divorce him for the sake of my holiness.” And Paul turns them a hundred and eighty degrees around. You will not become holier for it, he tells them. You cannot be the first to leave. If your unbelieving spouse is willing to live with you — stay, do not go. And there is a very weighty reason why you should stay even in this case.
If the Unbeliever Leaves
“But if,” Paul says, “the unbelieving partner separates, let it be so. In such cases the brother or sister is not enslaved.” You do not leave first. But if he himself gets up and goes — God does not chain you to the one who has broken the covenant.
And this is a word for those who have been abandoned. If it was not you who broke the covenant, then you are not bound by guilt for another’s sin. God has called you to peace, not to a lifetime of blaming yourself for someone else’s decision, which you cannot change.
So When Is It Permitted?
And here, honestly, arises the question that everyone eventually asks: so when, after all, is divorce permitted? Scripture does not hide the answer. The bond of marriage in God’s eyes is broken by one thing only — when the covenant is truly broken by the other party. There are three reasons a marriage ends: the death of a spouse, unfaithfulness, and the departure of an unbelieving spouse.
The death of a spouse:
For a married woman is bound by law to her husband while he lives, but if her husband dies she is released from the law of marriage. Accordingly, she will be called an adulteress if she lives with another man while her husband is alive. But if her husband dies, she is free from that law, and if she marries another man she is not an adulteress. (Rom. 7:2–3)
Unfaithfulness — about which Jesus spoke directly:
…whoever divorces his wife, except for sexual immorality, and marries another, commits adultery. (Matt. 19:9)
The departure of an unbeliever — here, in verse fifteen: “But if the unbelieving partner separates, let it be so. In such cases the brother or sister is not enslaved.”
With death, things are relatively clear. But the other two cases — unfaithfulness and departure — are the consequences of decisions made by a person. And each of these decisions is a sin, a distortion of what God designed to be beautiful. These very grounds prove it: the marriage is already broken, God’s design is already violated. God never designed divorce; divorce has always been and will always be the wreckage of what sin has already destroyed.
And here is what Jesus does: he takes the side of the one who was betrayed. He does not chain the victim to endless torment — he comforts the betrayed and protects the wounded. That is why these exceptions exist. But these exceptions are not a master key for picking any lock. They are not a loophole for the one who has resolved to get out of the marriage no matter what. The whole context of the passage says as much.
“God Has Called You to Peace”
Notice how verse fifteen ends: “God has called you to peace.” In English it sounds almost like a quiet full stop. And it is easy to think Paul is saying: “he left — thank God, let him go in peace.” But in the Greek there stands an important conjunction that most translations conveniently drop — the word “but,” “however,” before the final phrase. If you translate the verse literally, with all its connectives, it sounds like this:
“If the unbeliever separates, let him separate; the brother or sister is not enslaved in such cases; however, God has called us to peace, because — how do you know whether you will save your husband?”
Do you hear how one thing hooks onto the next? Paul has just said: if he is bent on leaving, don’t hold him by force. But right away he says: and yet divorce is not the ideal outcome. The ideal is to try to preserve even such a marriage. And the “peace” to which God calls is not the quiet after a divorce. In the Bible, “peace,” shalom, is wholeness, fullness, when everything is in its place. God calls us not to “come to terms with divorce,” but to keep whole what he has joined.
And to what end? — the very connective “because” answers. “For how do you know, wife, whether you will save your husband? Or how do you know, husband, whether you will save your wife?” (v. 16). This is what it is worth staying for. Who knows — perhaps it is precisely through you that God will bring him or her to himself.
Don’t Look for the Door
This is a word to all of us. Do not turn this text into a hunt for a loophole. My divorced Christian friends are proof that we are masters at this: searching the Bible for justification of our sinful desires. The moment things get hard, we are already leafing through the Bible — not to hear God, but to beg ourselves permission to leave.
But Paul did not write for those who flee. His question was not “under what condition may I leave,” but “how do I mend what is broken and show grace.” God gave comfort for the wounded, not excuses for the weary. If you are looking for a door — you have already lost. Look not for a door, but for a way to love and to mend.
Because marriage is a covenant of faithfulness. And a covenant is kept even when the other side does not believe. You do not leave first. You stay — you guard, you hope, you love. Marriage is a covenant, therefore — do not leave.
3. The Covenant of Sanctification
But Paul did not merely forbid leaving an unbelieving spouse — he named the reason. And this reason is the most astonishing place in our whole text.
For the unbelieving husband is made holy because of his wife, and the unbelieving wife is made holy because of her husband. Otherwise your children would be unclean, but as it is, they are holy. … For how do you know, wife, whether you will save your husband? Or how do you know, husband, whether you will save your wife? (1 Cor. 7:14, 16)
The Corinthians’ Fear
To feel the force of these words, let’s return to what the Corinthians were afraid of. Remember their slogan? “It is good for a man not to touch a woman.” Some of them believed that intimacy — especially with a pagan — defiled them. And they reasoned: “I am a believer, I am holy now, and he is unclean. If I stay with him, his filth will pass to me, and I will be soiled by his unbelief.”
And you know, I often hear this same logic from believers even today. I sometimes come across pretty motivational pictures in social media and believers’ chat groups carrying precisely this idea. It usually looks like this: a basket of beautiful, juicy apples with one rotten one among them, and a caption — “it’s not enough to be good, you also have to stay away from the bad.” One rotten apple spoils the whole basket.
This was the thinking of part of the believers in Corinth. But friends, if that’s so, then we ought to found a city somewhere in the desert and move there, all of us believers, to stay away from the bad. And such projects have existed — and they all failed. The author of such a card may have meant well — not to give in to the influence of bad company — and Paul in chapter fifteen will indeed say that “bad company ruins good morals.” But the idea of keeping as far as possible from all sinners is utterly unbiblical. Paul spoke of this back in chapter five:
I wrote to you in my letter not to associate with sexually immoral people — not at all meaning the sexually immoral of this world, or the greedy and swindlers, or idolaters, since then you would need to go out of the world. (1 Cor. 5:9–10)
Such pictures and such an attitude say that darkness is stronger than light — that we are unable to shine, to salt, to sanctify; that we will sooner rot along with others than heal and refresh the disease.
Holiness Flows Outward
And here is what Paul says to the super-spiritual Christians who wanted to divorce so as not to be defiled: “The unbelieving husband is made holy because of his wife, and the unbelieving wife is made holy because of her husband.” This is the complete opposite of the rotten-apple picture. It is not the rot that should soil you — it is your holiness that should sanctify your home and your household. It is not he who soils you; it is you who sanctify him.
And here is the proof Paul brings: your children. “Otherwise your children would be unclean, but as it is, they are holy.” What does this mean? If union with an unbeliever defiled, your children would be born “unclean,” strangers to God. But Paul says the opposite: they are holy. So in this home the holiness of one spouse is stronger than the defilement of the other.
What “Holy” Means
Only let us understand correctly what Paul is saying here — and what he is not saying. “Made holy” is not “saved.” Otherwise it would be nonsense: that same spouse is called an unbeliever in that same verse. And in verse sixteen Paul will ask directly “whether you will save?” — which means that person is not yet saved.
So what does “holy” mean? “Holy” means “set apart,” “specially designated.” This home, these children, are not territory foreign to God, but a place on which God has laid his hand. Paul is speaking here not of a guarantee of salvation, but of holy ground where God is at work. That is why he poses the question: “whether you will save?” The unbelieving spouse in such a home sits every day at one table with a citizen of the Kingdom of God. And the children grow up not just anywhere, but under a roof where the name of Christ is spoken. This does not mean they are already saved. It means they are nearer to grace than anyone else on earth.
Salt and Light
The world lives by the law of the rotten apple: one will spoil them all. Filth is contagious, darkness wins — so better keep your distance. But the Kingdom of God lives by the opposite law. “You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world,” says Jesus. Salt does not rot from the meat — it preserves the meat from rotting. Light does not darken from the darkness — light disperses the darkness. Bring a candle into a dark room — and it is not the darkness that wins, but the light.
This is who you are in your home. Not the victim of another’s unbelief, but God’s bridgehead in the middle of it. God placed you there not by accident — he placed you there as light.
“Whether You Will Save?”
And now Paul’s final question makes sense: “How do you know, wife, whether you will save your husband? Or how do you know, husband, whether you will save your wife?” To “save” here means to bring to Christ, to win over. Paul gives no guarantee. He does not promise: stay, and your spouse will surely come to faith. But he opens a door of hope. Who knows? Perhaps it is you whom God has placed alongside, so that through you he might save him.
And here is a hard question for each of us. If there is in you no desire at all for your husband, your wife to come to Christ, this says nothing about their being hopeless. It speaks of the coldness in your own heart. God has placed beside you a person who is, every day, within the reach of your influence. And by leaving, you choose to abandon him to perish.
You Are Salt and Light in Your Home
So remember, if you are in a hard or mixed marriage: you are God’s instrument in your home. You are not an apple in a basket of rotten ones — you are salt and light. By staying, you hold open the door of salvation — both for your spouse and for your children. If there is in you neither a desire nor a prayer for the salvation of your other half, this is not about his being hopeless — it is about the coldness in your own heart. Ask God for love toward the one he has placed beside you.
Parents, your children are “holy” — that is, set apart, placed under God’s hand. But they are not saved automatically. This holiness is not a guarantee but a responsibility. To sanctify them means to speak the gospel to them every day, to teach them, to pray with them — not to hope that “they’re in a Christian family anyway.”
And if you do not yet believe, but have come here today: you are not “filth” in your home. You are the one God has placed beside a believer — so that through that believer he might draw you, too, near to himself.
Marriage is a covenant. And through this covenant holiness enters your home, and to your spouse — salvation. Marriage is a covenant of sanctification, therefore — do not leave. Sanctify.
Conclusion
Let’s sum up. Marriage is not a contract you throw out when it stops being worthwhile. Marriage is a covenant. A covenant made not by man but by the Lord — and therefore one that man has no right to tear apart. A covenant that holds even when the other does not yet believe. A covenant through which holiness enters the home, and to the closest person of all — the hope of salvation.
Everything we have spoken of today rests on one thing. Our God is a God of covenant. A God who puts faithfulness above convenience. A God who does not abandon his own.
So Christ Did
And this faithfulness is seen most clearly in one single marriage — the union of Christ and his Church. What was the Church when Christ took her to be his bride? Unfaithful. Unclean. A stranger. Hostile to God. It is the most mixed marriage in the universe one could imagine: a holy, sinless Bridegroom — and a bride covered head to toe in the filth of sin. If anyone ever had grounds to say “she will defile me, better to separate” — it was he.
And what did he do? He did not stand off so as not to be soiled by us. He did not say, “they are unclean, I’ll separate for the sake of my holiness.” He came. He took us to himself — just as we are. And here is the wonder on which everything rests: he did not catch our filth — he gave us his purity. The filth did not pass to him — but his holiness passed to us. The very thing Paul said about marriage: it is not the unbeliever who soils the believer — it is the believer who sanctifies his home.
Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word. (Eph. 5:25–26)
Christ is the very Believer who stayed with the unbelievers. He did not leave. He stayed. He sought. He sanctified. He saved. And if he did so with us — will we not do the same for those who are near us and who so badly need it?
The Covenant Sealed in His Blood
You were the one who by all rights deserved to be thrown out. But God did not throw you out. When we were unfaithful to him, he did not file for divorce — he went to the cross. And there, at the very end, the Bridegroom said to his unclean bride not “I’ve had enough, I’m out” — he said, “It is finished.” The debt is paid. The covenant is sealed in his blood.
He stayed. And he stays to this day — with you, who have been unfaithful to him so many times. He does not leave. Because a covenant is not torn apart. In a covenant you stay to the end.
“For the man who does not love his wife but divorces her, says the LORD, the God of Israel, covers his garment with violence, says the LORD of hosts. So guard yourselves in your spirit, and do not be faithless.” (Mal. 2:16)
Amen.