From our previous reflection, it should be obvious why Creation Two presents the creation of male and female differently to Creation One. Both accounts reflect complementarity and unity, but separating the creation of the couple in time allows Creation Two to present an aetiology for the joining-together-of-two-to-become-one that is marriage.
There’s a lot packed in here. It isn’t immediately obvious why one man, one woman should be the spiritual blueprint, and it certainly isn’t explained. This idealised vision of monogamy and sexual exclusivity isn’t normative to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, or David and Solomon for that matter, (and interestingly, also per the previous post, solely a male prerogative). Monogamy became more standard in the post-exilic period when these ancient stories likely underwent final editing.
It seems to have a peculiarly spiritual character given that genetic monogamy appears very rare in nature and certainly isn’t prevalent even amongst our nearest primate relatives. Social monogamy (non-exclusive pairing) appears better represented. The equivalent development in humans is likely linked to ensuring offspring stably inherit family resources.
Absolute monogamy/sexual exclusivity is, then, as curious as the distinctive monotheism of these stories and herein hangs a tale. When engaged by the Pharisees on the subject of Jewish divorce, Jesus referred directly to both Genesis accounts:
Have you not read that he who made them from the beginning made them male and female, and said, ‘for this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one’? So they are no longer two but one flesh. What therefore God has joined together, let no man put asunder. (Mt 19:4-6)
Our focus isn’t upon divorce but rather how Jesus interprets Genesis. The insight is in the final statement: God is the author of the union. One is reminded of GKC’s brilliant wordplay emphasising precisely this – ‘those whom God has sundered, shall no man join’ – or the profound reflections of the great Fulton Sheen in Three to Get Married. This is the curious connection between monogamy and monotheism: it’s an exclusive bond between the one God and the unified pair. Just as there are no other gods before God, there can be no other partners in a true marriage. In a true marriage one might even say that the immutable love of God is the bond between the couple.
In this is love, not that we loved God but that he loved us… (1 Jn 4:10)
This is all a far cry from merely convenient coupling or even admirable social stability. It’s shockingly idealistic. The analogy is: seeking other partners when God’s already given you a perfectly good one is like going after other gods when you’ve already met the real and only one. Adultery is akin to idolatry is akin to deception is akin to stupidity.
Moreover, we have in this another striking conjoining of spirit and flesh that we’ve already explored. The couple become one flesh. The Bible isn’t bashful about the significance of conjugal sexual intercourse. The preferred phrase for said engagement is the man knowing the woman, (cf Gen 4:1,17, 25). Although expressed from the male eye-view, female equivalence is implied. They now know each other in a new and exclusive way. Another later turn of phrase (Gen 29:21) is going into her, as though referring to a land or the tent you call home.
There’s something else here which links both to the be fruitful and multiply of 1:28 and the these are the generations of 2:4. Generation obviously relates both to creation on a grand scale and to bringing new life into existence. Genesis expresses this explicitly in the literary form known as the genealogy – God’s loving kindness charted through the generations. The first one is only a few pages away in Chapter Five. Marriage is, thus, the proper means by which God’s people flourish throughout history. The individual stories of one’s fidelity to God and to one another are handed down to one’s descendants and woven into a master narrative.
Fine, but meanwhile back in the world as we know it, marriage can feel a bit like that Churchill comment about democracy being the worst form of government except for all the others. Even the Patriarchs and Matriarchs themselves (Chapters 12-50) appear to be on a journey towards this challenging ideal of monogamy. Like faith in a mysterious God, it isn’t immediately intuitive or at all easy. I can literally feel Hosea patting my back as I write. In this sense, Marriage is meant to be astonishing and thorny. By definition, it asks almost too much of human nature. As far as ideals go, then, it isn’t really that ideal.
But even if its strangeness offers little comfort, there’s still a little strange comfort on offer. And it relates to this principle that God alone authorises the union. Adam and Eve know they’re meant for each other because they benefit from the transparency of paradise. Even then it’s portrayed as a journey of discovery, with God as guide, reflected in Adam’s rejection of all matches other than the longed-for Eve, (vv 18-24).
Yet, in our post-fall world, the truth is: in absence of edenic clarity, we have no clue post-wedding day whether we are or aren’t married in the eyes of God. We just have to assume. Or, better still: trust. Because a wedding day may, in fact, not be the start of a marriage. But, as Creation Two reveals, it’s always meant to be the start of a process of discernment, lifelong or otherwise. Echoing St John above: what counts is that God loves us first, with all His heart, and with this love on our side we can be certain all other loves will find their rightful place.
On this lovely day, I’ll leave you with the flawless vocals of the great Bill Withers, whose only fault here is being one short on the maths…
Header photo: Andy Holmes, Unsplash