Single is...
'"Single" is, ironically, a complex word' says Jana Marguerite Bennet in her book Water Is Thicker Than Blood (p.84). It is frequently used to describe various states of not being married, perpetuating the idea that singleness is a lack of something. Questions about marital status seem so black and white. Yet the word 'single' masks the complexity of how we form households and the diverse network of people with whom we share our lives.
In this paper, I will make some observations about why 'singleness' might be a focus for our theological anthropology - including social context and pressures with the church. Although those factors demand our attention when it comes to mission and pastoral care, my primary concern is how we underpin that with a theological understanding of humanity. The question of how we live well - alone together - takes into account our need for companionship, intimacy and solitude in the face of mortality. This questioning is rooted in God's creative and redemptive movement towards the world. To think about being alone together is not yet another set of binaries; but perhaps generous spacious way of thinking which God, in Christ at the centre; but which also opens up a way of relating well in the world, in the power of the Spirit.
Crock of Gold - Chris Gollon (2013)
Alone Together
The phrase, or more precisely those two words, 'alone together' have stayed with me since hearing my colleague Mark Oakley describe the truths he discovered after surgery; the truths about masks we wear to fit in. And when the medics have left him he addressed God saying, 'ahh alone together at last'. God and creation; God with us; you and me; in relation to others. Together. Alone. To think this way takes us into the abundance of Genesis 2 and the stillness of Mark 1; it takes us into the ecclesial vision of life together shaped by Bonhoeffer and Hardy.
Children, widowers, divorcees and the never married are all 'single'. We will all be 'single' for some or all of our lives. Patterns of work and serious illness might mean that spouses spend time having to live in a way that is 'single minded' if you like, in terms of ordering practical aspects of their lives, emotional resilience and relational intimacy.
That we find 'single' problematic is not just matter of definition. There are a number of social and ecclesial pressures which demand a more adequate theological response. There's both a nervousness about sex and what it means to be married but open to relationship; plus a tendency to equate intimacy with sexual encounters, rather than cultivating and cherishing bonds of friendship, intellectual curiosity, support and appreciation.
Perhaps too there's added pressure around our language of discipleship and particularly leadership - typified in the presumptive 'your spouse will...'. In many contexts, we've grown to accustomed to certain ecclesial role models (as evidenced by the comments about the marital status of women who've become bishops).
Households and friendship
Our scriptures are quite subversive on that - offering a rich diversity of 'households' within the church, including Lydia a (presumably) financially independent business woman. We may also be aware of the emotional pressure at work - to fulfil the ideals of an implicit hierarchy of discipleship by dating with a view to marrying. It does indeed tap into deep human longings - the plot of London Spy turns on Danny recollecting a conversation with Alex about being 'the one'. A contemporary twist, perhaps, on 'Reader, I married him'.
There have been some wise and resourceful responses from Kate Wharton on navigating such pressures (Single-Minded: being single whole and living life to the full, published 2013); but it still leaves open some of the deeper questions which demand engaging with and changing societal and ecclesial culture. There are over 26 million single person households in the UK and in the 2011 census, the percentage of those who are married dipped below 50% for the first time.
Added to this, the statistics on loneliness in the UK have been given human context by the BBC documentary The Age of Loneliness. It was narrated by those who were in a more nuanced sense single: students, widowers and new mums; the unemployed, divorcees and those will fulfilling careers. It is an inter-generational issue not related to marital status. If that is our social context - the world in which we witness - it is salutary to remember that those who attend church report higher instances of loneliness than the national average. Cultivating a vision of living well alone, together becomes even more of an imperative.
In Being Single, Philip Wilson reveals the isolation experienced by single church goers and (in his words), their 'over use' (Wilson, DLT, 2005). He writes of the potential and challenge for the church, including the place of friendship. Friendship has become a significant category and indeed practice for thinking about ecclesiology (see comment below). Indeed, it is the category that John Pritchard draws on in Living Faithfully. He describes the church as a network of friends called to 're-vision the church as the place where Jesus is at the centre, living in his friends and empowering them to live his abundant life of each other and the community around. Then anything is possible' (Pritchard, 2013, p. 120).
Think single?
It is then that he issues the imperative to 'think single' - offering activities 'to reflect this diverse make-up' of the widows, students or unsupported by a partner for whatever reason (Pritchard, 2013, p.120). If 'single' is a complex word; than activities is perhaps too simple a response. Singleness with the body of Christ demands of us a sustained engagement with being an embodied human being.
In the marriage liturgy, the couple say 'all that I am I give to you'. How we foster a sense of 'all-ness' which is good for personal and corporate flourishing, which doesn't collude with fierce autonomy; nor that we are incomplete apart from others; but which recognises that our identity in Christ is more important that our legal status is the question at the heart of a project exploring the notion of what it is to be alone together.
Turning to Genesis 2 we are confronted with the reality of being alone: As we contemplate creation - the glorious and tumultuous diversity of it - we respond with our whole being. We are in a profound way 'together' - we are part of the goodness of that create order; yet in the face of delight and responsibility, we catch a glimpse of the reality of being alone.
it is not right... to be alone
It is is not right or good for the man to be alone. He - you and I - need helpmates. We need companionship. Not God nor creation alone: the well-being of the one, as Brueggemann puts it, 'requires a fresh creative act of God' (Brueggemann, Genesis 1982, p. 47). There is something good in being together. We share in work and creativity; we learn compassion and empathy. In the first instance, this is not about hierarchy, complementarity or marriage. Rather it seems to be an opening up of what it is to be human - in relation to other people.
As we shall see, that is also fragile and complex. But for now it is worth exploring further the language of sameness and different; the covenantal nature of being alone together. Again, quoting Brueggemann: 'the place of the garden is for this covenanted human community of solidarity, trust and well being. They are one!' (Brueggemann, Genesis 1982, p. 47).
This is a dynamic and generous 'one'. Genesis speaks of being bone of my bones; flesh of my flesh. Is there a transformative movement here beyond 'our flesh and blood' and ties of biological kinship and commitment. For we also use such language to speak of our belonging together as the body of Christ. We we are called by name in him; shaped together by word and sacrament; improvising together in the power of the Spirit.
The vision of Genesis of human companionship and shared endeavour turns to fragmentation. Life and knowledge are within our grasp: freedom, trust and calling in love are exchanged for autonomy, oppression and hierarchical ways of organising life (Brueggemann, Genesis 1982, p. 53).
Dan Hardy's language of extensity and intensity expresses the hope and reality, the dynamism of divine and human interaction. God creates in generosity and freedom. Intensity is that movement of love pouring forth in diversity and abundance; our response to that freedom means that that energy is spread outwards into the world. Extensity is the consequence of such spread-out-ness; we get distracted by our own desires and find ourselves caught up in complex social and economic systems, which draw us further away from one another and from God.
Part of that is that our identity is reduced to just one aspect of who we are: we are defined by race, gender, age and marital status. The fullness of who we are is impaired. If Genesis 1 reminds us of our primary desire or orientation as being made in the image of God; Genesis 2 reminds us of the glorious relational and material aspect of that. But divine intensity continues - in redemption; in the formation of the human person; in Christ; in the Spirit.
A lonely place
In the midst of this, God reaches out to us. Mark's gospel begins with a direct assertion that this is good news precisely because Jesus is God with us in the midst of hurt and loss, delight and commitment. We are called to live with difference - whatever our marital status, gender or class - we are all gathered up together. We are a body, together; attentive to God in worship and to God's ways in the world. We are together with God and an innumerable company of pilgrims, yet also alone.
Mark recounts that Jesus goes to a deserted place, early in the morning, to pray. He had gathered around him a group of disciples who had responded to his call; he had begun to proclaim that the Kingdom of God had come near; he was reaching out to those in need bringing grace and healing. He had spent time in the intimacy of Peter's household. He was with us; together with others. And he went to be alone.
Prayer in this lonely place becomes a place of power, direction, strength and cost. We are called to lay ourselves open to the intensity of God's refining light that we might be strengthened and sustained in our discipleship. Our life together is rooted not just in corporate worship but also in our capacity to be alone. Bonhoeffer warns us that many people 'seek fellowship because they are afraid to be alone'; but he says let whoever 'cannot be alone beware of community' (Bonhoeffer, Life Together pp. 76-8). Silence and stillness before God shapes our day, being alone in meditation, prayer and intercession.
One Body & the Spirit's work
This time is not, says Bonhoeffer, an 'abyss of loneliness' but time alone with the Word (Bonhoeffer, Life Together p. 88). The value of solitude is to be deeply away that we are loved; it is rooting all else in God's desire for us. It resources all of us for those times 'alone' in the world, in the dispersed life of the church: political imagination? We cannot risk being alone, unless we are in community: bearing with one another, carrying griefs and burdens; rejoicing in gifts and joys.
Perhaps 'singleness' becomes less about self-sufficiency, but somehow a sign of freedom in Christ; which paradoxically points to our primary social reality. As John Bradbury puts it in 'Called to Become: 'the individual is the locus of the work of the Spirit of God: a human person can be led into a new social reality that fundamentally changes who they are' (Bradbury and Cornwall, Thinking Again about Marriage, SCM 2016, p. 144 ). This transformation of our personhood is what Hardy describes as abduction; as all that we are is drawn to God.
Within the body of Christ, we are still living in between times: we await the fulfilment of God's Kingdom, knowing that something decisive has happened in Christ. Something is deeply personal in effect, but also cosmic in scope. We hear the cries and groans and longings of the whole creation; and utter the assurance that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. We live in the midst of Romans 8.
Genesis speaks of one flesh; Paul writes of being many but one body. That entails a fruitfulness of relationship that transcends procreation; which recognises mutual care and affection; where the powerful do not overlook the weak. Such language describes a whole personal relationship of love. The fruitfulness of Genesis is echoed in the spiritual fruit - becoming a little more patient and hospitable; joyful or self-controlled. It's a way of holiness. Alone together.
Letting go...
In this Easter season, we are acutely that of life coming though death. Of both Jesus profound expression of being alone together on the cross and in the grave. Of the way in which resurrection disrupts and deepens out being alone together; we could talk about Mary Magdalene's calling by name, her desire to cling on; her letting go and her commissioning. Alone she witnesses to those gathered together. In reflecting on how, we come to life in death; that letting go might actually mean deepening our love and care.
If Bennett laments that little has been written of the moral life of the single person: perhaps a Spirit let ecclesiology shaped by Dan Hardy is a good place to start or, in terms of this paper, to end.
He writes that: ‘understood in their fullest sense, both Church and mission are the social means of incorporating all the dimensions of human life in the world in their comprehensive fulfilment by God’ (Hardy, Finding the Church, p. 25). I could say more about flourishing expressed as sociopoiesis, as good news for all humanity and the whole creation. Or I could end with a comment on facing death; perhaps more attention should be paid to how all our 'letting gos' become signs of attraction to God and other. It's less about one's marital status; all our relationships are provisional, yet rooted in our ultimate hope of redemption. It's about our vocation in Christ to witness to the light, love, grace and beauty of Christ. Alone. Together.
Julie Gittoes © 2016
Work on friendship:
Steve Summers, Friendship: Exploring its Implications for the Church in Postmodernity (T&T Clark, 2011); Guido De Graff, Politics in Friendship: A Theological Account (T&T Clark, 2006); John B Thomson, Sharing Friendship: Exploring Anglican Character, Vocation and Mission (Farnham: Ashgate, 2015); Samuel Kimbriel, Friendship as Sacred Knowing: Overcoming Isolation (Oxford: OUP, 2014).
Work on friendship:
Steve Summers, Friendship: Exploring its Implications for the Church in Postmodernity (T&T Clark, 2011); Guido De Graff, Politics in Friendship: A Theological Account (T&T Clark, 2006); John B Thomson, Sharing Friendship: Exploring Anglican Character, Vocation and Mission (Farnham: Ashgate, 2015); Samuel Kimbriel, Friendship as Sacred Knowing: Overcoming Isolation (Oxford: OUP, 2014).
