Soulfood

When one of my sons (who shall remain nameless) was much younger, he took to calling his oldest sister’s favorite music artist Schneider Schnell (loosely translated from German: Taylor Swift). Thankfully he has grown out of this phase and as he is a musician himself he has come to appreciate the artistry and beauty of Swift’s songwriting and singing.

I listen to “Blank Space” with only a slightly guilty conscience. It’s a fun song full of lies, but seems tongue-in-cheek enough to be aware of how destructive is the lifestyle it promotes. That was 2014.

Fast forward to Evermore in late 2020 and the songs are still beautiful, but the pep is all gone. It’s torture to listen to the whole album. As someone who has, by the grace of God, not endured a failed romantic relationship in my life (not by any virtue of my own – let’s make that very clear) I really struggle to understand why anyone would go through it so often.

I recently overheard a conversation about failed relationships between 2 of my coworkers in the break room. It was clear, to me, how hardheartedness was at the root of their failures. But from their standpoint they were simply seeking justice in expressing their desires that their exes would “get what was coming to them.”

It is so easy to harden our hearts when we are hurt. What we so seldom realize is that many of our hurts are only wounds to our pride. What we perceive as attacks are really sharp edges being ground away. When our self-serving, self-loving, self-pitying hearts are challenged, how do we respond? Do we harden those sharp edges, or humbly allow them to be beaten, ground, hacked away?

The hard heart doesn’t forget, and it never forgives. The hard heart keeps a record of wrongs done to it, real or imagined, and knows what retribution the offenders deserve. The hard heart resists grace, indeed it sneers at it as weakness. The hard heart is miserable.

Some of the books I’ve been spending time in recently are helping me to think through Scripture’s use of the image of the body as representing the church and husbands and wives. Richard Sibbes, in The Bruised Reed, notes that when Paul speaks of Christ as the head of the church, one of the implications of our being joined to His body is that He cares for us as we care for our physical bodies. If my body is injured, the default attitude I have towards the damaged part of my body is to treat it gently, show it special care, and devote myself to restoring and healing it. Dane Ortlund (following Sibbes) touches on this as well in Gentle and Lowly. Even more, I show this care and tenderness towards my wounded body part in spite of the pain and suffering it causes me – because my desire is for healing, not for it to be cast away. I don’t poke, prod, tear, or beat at it because of the trouble it causes me. So it is with Christ towards us. His heart is gentle and lowly.

The implication for husbands is similar – we are to love our wives and care for them as we care for our own bodies. When our spouse hurts us, we always have a choice how to respond. Laying down our lives and humbling ourselves is never easy, but is always an option.

There is much more to write, but time is short and I have much else to do. Suffice to say, I am sorry for Ms. Swift that she has been unable to find a husband who will lay down his life for her and care for her as he cares for his own body. I am sorry for the hardening of her heart, and for the misery her romantic failures have caused her. I hope she finds healing – in truth, not in all the places she has failed to find it thus far. I can assuredly say the singer of “Blank Space” cannot hope to find lasting happiness without first finding a Savior Who is gentle and lowly, a good shepherd Who lays down His life for the sheep.

For further reading:

Gentle and Lowly: The Heart of Christ for Sinners and Sufferers, Dane Ortlund (Crossway, 2020)

The Bruised Reed, Richard Sibbes (public domain, sort of)