Happy Valentine’s Day.

The matter is quite simple. The Bible is very easy to understand. But we Christians are a bunch of scheming swindlers. We pretend to be unable to understand it because we know very well that the minute we understand, we are obliged to act accordingly. Take any words in the New Testament and forget everything except pledging yourself to act accordingly. My God, you will say, if I do that my whole life will be ruined. How would I ever get on in the world? Herein lies the real place of Christian scholarship. Christian scholarship is the Church’s prodigious invention to defend itself against the Bible, to ensure that we can continue being good Christians without the Bible coming too close. Oh, priceless scholarship, what would we do without you? Dreadful it is to fall into the hands of the living God. Yes, it is even dreadful to be alone with the New Testament.

~ Søren Kierkegaard

The wife of a friend of mine was hosting one of those parties where the salesperson comes and shows the myriad of uses for candles in your home. My buddy was going to be the only male in attendance, so I volunteered to come up and represent the gender.

During the party I met about a dozen women in their late 20s and early 30s. Most of them were married, most either had kids or were getting ready to. And most were shockingly negative.

They went around the table for hours discussing how one’s love life comes to an end once you marry or have kids or buy the house or whatever. They talked about how you should enjoy life while you can, because once the young ones come around you’ll be poor, tired, bored, busy, out of shape, stupid and lonely.

It was a sad prognosis, but one that appears to be extremely common among women in our country. They were talking about the staggering number of housewives who have become meth addicts, about the number of housewives who cheat on their husbands, about the number of wives who are diagnosed with depression.

What in the world is going on here? Why is marriage the cause of such destruction?

Before I got married, I spent a long time thinking about what it meant, what my vows that day were truly about. It didn’t really occur to me until a few weeks before the wedding how big a commitment it is – I mean, I knew it was important, but I don’t think it penetrated the core of my being.

When most of us talk about marriage and what it means, it tends to be pretty surface level. We talk about someone who we enjoy hanging out with. We talk about someone who is beautiful and intelligent. We talk about someone who has similar interests or ideas about the world. We talk about how “in love” we are.

I’ve written about this before, but the Greek language has four different words for love. The most common is the word eros, or erotic love. It’s that euphoric feeling we get when we most often talk of love. I’d be willing to bet it’s the only kind of love that most of us have ever felt. And sadly, it’s probably the only kind of love that exists between a great many couples who decide to take the plunge.

There’s another kind of love called agape – and it’s love from the soul. It’s the kind of love that characterizes Christ’s love for the church, and it’s the kind of love that he calls husbands and wives to share for each other.

It’s a love that is about much more than ‘good feelings.’ It isn’t about being ‘in love,’ about the things that so many of our movies and songs and poetry are preoccupied with. It is a lifelong devotion that surpasses all other things in this world. It is very literally considering the life of the other person as being more valuable than your own, and doing whatever it takes to ensure that their life is cherished and cared for and treated the way God would want it to be treated.

I honestly believe that there are many marriages out there that lack this love. They lack the fundamental foundation that defines a solid marriage – indeed, they lack the purpose for which marriage was created in the first place.

It’s the only explanation I have for why “life” is allowed to get in the way. I know all about the demands of work, and I do feel as though I can understand in some way the demands that having children and mortgages and the like can have on a couple.

But for a marriage that is based on agape, none of those things could ever upset that balance. They could certainly cause stress or concern and would likely involve discussions that are sometimes heated when trying to come up with solutions. But as powerful as a house payment or a child crying in the next room or a three week sales trip is, it is not strong enough to overthrow the power of agape.

Agape means that regardless of the situation, no matter how stressed out I am at work, I will still make it a priority to let my wife know that she is loved. I will go out of my way to make sure her needs are cared for – not just financially, but physically, mentally, emotionally, interpersonally, vocationally, spiritually.

Agape means that when there is a conflict, I will do whatever I can to make sure it gets resolved constructively and mutually. It means that I will not get bitter or angry or say something that I don’t mean. It means that I will happily compromise instead of digging in and holding my ground for the sake of holding my ground. And it means that if an impasse is reached, I will consider her needs above my own, make her needs my needs.

Agape is completely and utterly selfless. It is perpetually tuned into the needs of the other person. It is the surest way I know of to keep a relationship happy and healthy.

Some would say that they’ve never seen agape, and certainly have never experienced it. Some would even argue that it goes against our basest human desires and needs.

I agree – while in one sense it is something that requires a lot of work to acheive and maintain, in another sense it is something that we can never possess or feel by working at it. I believe it is a grace that is given to us, something given out of love from the One who understands agape in all its fullness. It’s not human, never was. It’s a gift.

Marriage isn’t about fuzzy feelings or being in love or about forming a family unit or about tax breaks. It’s about being given the immense privledge of trying to practice agape in our little ways. It’s about being able to see a small echo of what it’s like to love someone the way God loves us.

It’s about having agape, that fire of divine love, and doing everything in your power to keep that flame alive. Like a candle.

Or like a cheesy, contrived metaphor.

This weekend, I got together with my old roommate. At about midnight, he dug out the tapes and we proceeded to spend the next few hours engrossed in what is quite possibly the stupidest show ever created. It’s funny how rarely we think back on our younger selves and remember how stupid we were. Luckily, I stumbled upon 8 hours of forgotten footage to drill that fact into my simple skull.

The most amazing thing about the video wasn’t how bad the jokes were, or how young I looked, or how petty my concerns were – all of those themes were very evident, but not terribly surprising.

What blew me away was what an ass I was. Every episode we’d bring in a guest or two (people we knew from our hall or from class.) And every episode I’d spend 20 minutes asking them offensive questions about their lives. I’d ask the snowboarding girl why she thought it was okay to tear up the ski slopes and what was with her stupid clothes. I asked the girl who went to boarding school what it was like having rich parents, not having to work a day in her life. I asked the guy with the tongue piercing if he’d heard that Chris Rock song. I called people dozens of iterations of the word stupid.

Listening to it made me sick – I couldn’t believe what a jerk I was. I couldn’t believe any of these people were interested in being my friend (and suddenly wondered if those interviews weren’t contributing factors to my estrangement from said friends in the years that followed.) I was appalled at how much I talked for the sake of talking, how much I cut people down thinking it was humorous.

In truth, they did think it was humorous – at least on the surface. But I have to imagine that those verbal spears that were lobbed at my ‘friends’ had to leave something of a mark – if not on their self-esteem, then certainly on their estimation of my character.

Watching those videos made me very grateful that my words are fewer as an adult. Although people who didn’t know me then might say that I’m still talkative (and they’d probably be right,) the fact is I now hold my tongue much more often than I use it. The transition wasn’t a conscious one – I don’t know if the experience of upsetting people with my words registered with the inner workings of my brain, but 8 hours later it’s firmly burned into the forefront.

Our words are one of the most powerful weapons we have. People’s entire lives have been devastated by the careless, unkind words of someone they admired, respected, loved. While I don’t suggest that my words on the world’s most inane show carried that kind of weight, it makes me cringe to think about what those people thought of me leaving the “interview.” It makes me cringe thinking about how my words colored my credibility, my suggestions, my compliments, my late dorm room discussions about topics that actually mean something.

I’d like to think of myself as a bright guy, with ideas that are worth sharing. I’d like to think of myself as a loving guy, with a heart that is open and kind and devoid of evil. And maybe in the years that have transpired between then and how have given me some measure of virtue that I then lacked.

But I’m willing to bet that I still throw verbal spears at people all the time. Maybe their less overt, but I’m sure they’re there.

I wonder if I can consciously decide to fully appreciate the power and gravity of my words. I wonder if I can make sure that my sentences are never laced with anger or envy or sarcasm or bitterness or hostility or contempt. I wonder if I can naturally make my words be tools for building people up.

I wonder what happens when you throw 8 hours of videotape into a microwave…

I believe certain events in your life unlock certain new discoveries. And the engagement process, especially the past few months, have made me realize there are two kinds of love in the world – one is the euphoric feeling that you’ve given me every single day since I’ve met you. I have no doubt that our lives will continue to be full of that first kind of love – if the past two years are any indication, our marriage will marked by a consistent joy, passion and excitement for each other.

But that love isn’t what today is about – it’s about a second kind of love. A love marked not by feelings, but by actions. Today is about making very real promises to you, in front of God and everyone here today. Promises that last our entire lives. That love is what I pledge to you.

I promise to thank God daily for your presence in my life. I promise to never let a day pass without you knowing in no uncertain terms how much you mean to me.

I promise to never tell you that you have too many shoes.

I promise to spend my days serving you, leading you where I can, building you up when I’m able, celebrating your many victories and encouraging you in setbacks.

I promise to always respect you – to friends, coworkers, family, strangers. I promise to remain devoted to you, to not wonder what else is out there, because I know without a shred of doubt that there is nothing else, no one else out there that could possibly hold a candle to you. I promise to do whatever I can so you never question my loyalty, love and devotion to you.

I promise that our house will have a consistent reserve of chocolate and flowers available.

I promise to give you my energy every day of my life, to make sure you never feel lonely or heart-broken. I promise to continually put you on the pedestal you deserve, to make sure you understand that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.

I promise to fight for our relationship, no matter how life decides to test us. I promise to love you tirelessly, regardless of our circumstances, in prosperity or destitution, in good times and bad, in sickness and health.

I promise to make sure you have plenty of dresses to wear – which is more of a promise to myself, because you look really pretty in dresses.

I promise to treasure your life above my own, to put your interests in front of mine. I promise to protect you from harm, to protect your heart from being broken, to protect your spirit from being shattered, as best I’m able.

I promise to laugh with you, cry with you, pray with you, eat a variety of cheeses from all over the world with you.

I promise to love you, in both ways, as long as we both shall live.

I’m tired of living in a culture that tells me it’s okay, I can do what I want. I’m tired of being told that everything is subjective, tired of being told that I can rationalize away my worst thoughts and deeds. I’m tired of being able to chalk my lowest moments up as ‘learning experiences.’

I’m tired of seeing people make commitments to each other with no intention of honoring them. I’m tired of hearing about couples getting married only to divorce within a few months. I’m tired of flippant, off-hand comments about someone cheating on someone else, as if such behavior is natural, expected, normal.

I’m tired of being let off the hook.

I want to meet people who don’t insist I put on a mask to hide my faults. I want to meet people who are willing to call me on my bullshit.

I write one day about the perils of greed, and the very next I pass right next to a guy asking me for help. Call me on it.

I say something in jest that makes someone feel a little less respected, a little less honorable, a little less beautiful, a little less amazing than they are. Call me on it.

I cut corners on a project because, hey, it’s not like anyone else is giving 150% anyway. Call me on it.

I write something clever. People tell me it’s clever. I puff myself up like I was the source of my ideas, my intellect. Call me on it.

Don’t tell me that I’m being too hard on myself when I point out my faults. Help me work on them, help me become a better person, help me keep the curtain pulled back. Don’t make it easy for me to slip back into normal habits. Expect better from me.

And then take the next step. Expect better from yourself as well. Don’t put on the mask. Someone asks you how you’re doing – tell them. Show your warts. Talk about your demons. Ask to be held accountable.

It’s so much easier for us to slip into a mode that says everything is okay, as long as we’re happy. It’s easy because no one expects anything more from us. Because if they expect more from us, they have to take the next step and expect more from themselves. And that’s a difficult thing to do.

I don’t know how to change the world for the better. I don’t know how to convince our leaders to make intelligent, moral decisions.

But I do know that if I want to hold them accountable, I have to start with myself first. I can’t rail againt my leaders or my friends or my family for lying or cheating or stealing or boasting or hurting others unless I’m willing to first confront myself.

And when I do confront myself, openly, honestly….I find a lot of dirt.

There are so many things I do – daily – that I’m not proud of. Things I’d like to do differently. I screw up all the time. I’m not strong enough to live the way I know I should. Not on my own.

I need someone to hold me accountable. But the person holding me accountable can’t do so unless they first examine themselves. And once they do so, they find a lot of dirt. They discover that they too need someone to hold them accountable.

Our lives, the organism of humanity, appears to me to be more and more related to accountability. We are not islands. The decisions we make impact us, often in the long term, almost certainly in the short term. Our decisions impact those around us, those we love, those we don’t even know exist.

Unfortunately, our nature seems to lend itself to screwing up. Nobody’s perfect, and that’s probably on purpose. But the answer to screwing up is not to be let off the hook. The answer isn’t to rationalize it away. The answer isn’t to call it life and forget about it. The answer is to strive to be better – to resolve to lie to each other less, steal from each other less, hurt each other less.

And the best way I’ve found to support our push to be better is to have someone to hold us accountable. Someone who loves us enough to not let us off the hook, to cheer us on when we succeed, to rebuke us and build us up when we fail.

Are you willing to be held accountable? Are you willing to examine yourself? Are you willing to hold someone you love accountable n similar fashion?

If we did so, I bet the world would very quickly become a much different place.

I have a buddy back in Colorado. This guy spends his days humbly behind the desk of a publication you’ve probably never heard of. His official job is to manage content for their online presence. But he is probably their best designer, he’s become one of their regular photographers (shooting the likes of Roger Ebert and the wackjob professor from my alma mater above,) and he is increasingly being called upon to write articles as well – the results of which are predictably stellar.

He’s way too humble to admit it, but he’s one of the most talented guys you’re likely to meet. If you need someone to write something, take a photo of something, or put something online, you should give him a call.

He can also teach you guitar…