Thirty-Three and Single
Ten years ago—to the day—I wrote For the Sake of the Kingdom of Heaven, an exaltation of Christ over the blessing of marriage. I was twenty-three at the time—intense, zealous, restless. I wrote for a few reasons: to critique my friends’ obsession with dating, relationships, and marriage; to fight against my own temptation to fixate on finding a spouse; to set my mind on eternity, where there is only one eternal marriage, that is Christ’s marriage to His Bride. Ten years later, I still believe every word I wrote, especially the end:
“This I say for your own benefit; not to put a restraint upon you, but to promote what is appropriate and to secure undistracted devotion to the Lord" (1 Cor 7:35). I am not putting down marriage, nor the desire for marriage. But, Christ is all-sufficient. While marriage is good and God-honoring, Christ-likeness transcends marriage (and singleness).
Christ is the Husband of the Church, the only Savior of the World, the Preeminent One who made Himself a eunuch for sake of the Kingdom of Heaven. He never married. We ought to glory in this, and share in His singular, undistracted devotion to God.
Even as I exalted Christ over marriage, I never would have imagined that I would be thirty-three and “still” single. I never foresaw the many challenges God would bring before me. I never thought God would use my life—contrary to my own plans—to display the sufficiency of Christ in singleness. And, I never anticipated that this, in His mysterious wisdom, would be His good plan for my life.
Ten years ago, I was willing to be single for Christ—but, I did not expect it to be so lonely. Whereas my 20s were filled with constant companionship and fellowship with equally-single roommates, coworkers, and church members, my 30s thus far have been often marked by loneliness.
Single Station
If life is a linear journey through a series of train stations, I often think of myself as stuck at the train station called Single. When I look around this station, the most bewildering question I have is, “Where did all my friends go?” Most of my peers from high school and college have moved on to the station just down the line: Marriage. Many have even traveled further to the station littered with diapers and toys, called Young Parenthood.
Having departed from Single Station, my friends are, well, busy. With the blessings and burdens of family, they are busy with an incessant flurries of in-laws, family dinners, vacations, anniversaries, playdates, naps, daycare, school, graduations, sport practices, tournaments, and the like. I have lived with two families in the last 5 years and have seen first hand that young families are crazy busy. The cacophony of creating memories is their constant. Their overflowing schedules hardly have extra space for necessary rest, let alone much time for singles. If there is a free evening, the most practical thing is to ask another married couple to meet. If there is an opportunity for relationship-building, the most strategic invitees are families with kids the same age as their own. I don’t blame such calculated decisions; if I were in their shoes, I would probably do the same.
But the fact remains: I’m still here, just down the line, craning my neck to see the goodness of God to my friends.
Furthermore, at this station I am overwhelmed by all the new people churning through. The newcomers move like blurs of activity—graduation, grad school, new careers, relational longing, dating, breakups, engagements, and all the swirling of young adult life. With so many people, you’d think their company would ease the ache of loneliness. But their dress, their slang, their music, and, above all, their youth, remind me that although we are at the same station, we are still quite different. I treasure them, honor them, love them, serve with them, but I still struggle to assimilate them in my life (and, they, probably, me). They don’t invite me to hang out with them like my college friends once did, nor do I expect them to. Even my not-so-baby sister has just entered the station; perhaps this is why all these newcomers seem like my little siblings rather than peers. In our age-stratified and status-segmented culture, even in the church, there is a seemingly unbridgeable social distance.
The first weddings I went to as a young adult, I was overjoyed. But after 40+ weddings in 11 years, and as the couples slowly morphed from being my elders to my peers to now my juniors, there is bitter to the sweet. It is a fight to not see each marriage celebration as a taunt, a twist of the knife that reminds me that I still do not have what I long for. Hear me rightly; it is my joy to see—and even help!—these little ones love, date, and marry! But it also brings a peculiar sadness. By God’s design, they receive what I do not.
How long, O LORD?
Will You forget me forever?
How long will You hide Your face from me?
Psalm 13:1
Here I am, at the station called Single. Here, it is paradigmatic to be alone.
Why?
Earlier this year, I preached a youth retreat for a friend’s youth ministry. During one of the breaks, I sat down to play guitar and sing. In jest, with a smile that betrayed a mixture of real confusion and mirth, my friend asked, “How are you still single?” He meant well, but it strummed a chord he has never known. Whenever people realize I am thirty-three and single, the question they always ask is, “Why? Why are you still single, Keith?” How am I supposed to answer that?
Of course, everyone has their own guess at the answer. Some have accused me of failing to be prayerful enough. Others have hinted it is because I have some secret sin. Not a few say I am simply too picky. Most have assumed it’s simply because I haven’t tried enough. I myself have wondered if it is because my standards are too high, or because I’m intimidating, or because I missed my shot, or because I’m too insert-undesirable-character-trait-here.
Even if there is some truth to these explanations, I doubt they are the complete answer. Is marriage a gift earned by prayer? Is obedience the lever to pull to hit the jackpot called marriage? Do only highly desirable people get married? Are the courses of our lives determined completely by our actions, and our actions alone?
For years, I used to struggled to know how to answer people who asked about my singleness. But now, my answer is simple: I am single by the sovereign hand of God. It is God “who works all things after the counsel of His will” (Eph 1:11). “The mind of man plans his way, But the LORD directs his steps” (Proverbs 16:9). Just as a married couple has a story of grace—how they met, how they fell in love, how they covenanted together—I too have a story of grace. God has kept me single, comforted my heart, walked me through valleys and up to mountain tops, become my all in all. I am still single by the grace of God alone. I freely confess; He has not revealed His purposes, and I am unable to pierce through the mists of providence to perceive His good and perfect will. But more than knowing my God’s plans, I know my God, and that His ways are always good (Psa 119:68).
By the grace of God, I am truly thankful to be single. I recognize that I have a freedom some people would give almost anything for, for I live beholden to only One, with no competitors (1 Cor 7:32-34). I believe Jesus when He said that singleness is, in fact, superior to marriage—for those that are able to accept this (Matt 19:10-12, 22:30). I know that God calls me to be content in every circumstance through the strength of Christ Jesus (Phil 4:12-13), and this is my constant ambition.
A Single Perspective
But being single is still fraught with challenges. Being single in my 30s has forced me to reckon with questions I never would have dreamed of in my 20s. Will I be single forever? Will I ever have kids? Will I die alone? Will I be stuck at this station until Jesus brings me home? Why does God answer my prayers for others to be married but not my prayers for myself? Is it possible to be unwillingly have the gift of celibacy?[^1] Why is it this so uniquely difficult for me?
As one who aspires to the pastorate, singleness also affects my “career” more than most. Because I am single, will I be barred from the pastorate?[^2] Even if I do pastor, will I be limited to youth ministry?[^3] Or, if I somehow become a senior pastor, will people prefer another church because they think I can’t help them with their marriages and families?
The long-term effects of singleness are also well documented by sociologists: singles die earlier, are less happy, and make less money than their married counterparts. Is this my lot? But I don’t need sociologists to tell me that; on Day 6 of creation, the Yahweh said, “It is not good for the man to be alone” (Gen 2:18). I agree. Ecclesiastes 4:8-12 sums up my disenchanted musings well: if there is no one to live for, and no one to live life with, what’s the point? All is ultimately futility.
Above I said that singleness was lonely because my friends have moved on to other stations of life. But, the loneliness quickly compounds when I compare the blessings of marriage to the hardships of singleness. I think to myself, Marrieds don’t know what it’s like to be unwanted and unknown. Marrieds don’t know what it’s like to come home to an empty house day after day. Marrieds don’t know what it’s like to have to navigate trials alone. Marrieds don’t know what it’s like to wonder who to put as an emergency contact, who will care for them when they’re sick, who to put as their beneficiary in their will. Marrieds don’t listen to every love song and ache. Marrieds don’t wonder who their person is, who their confidante is, who their friend-for life is. Singles do.
Singleness in the Church
Singleness is particularly hard in the church. One reason is because some Christians treat marriage as a necessary prerequisite to godliness. The unmarried are assumed to be unsanctified (or, at least less sanctified). As one of my seminary professors repeatedly says, “When you see an older single man, you should think one thing: selfish.”
But is that true? Is singleness due to selfishness? Are selfishness and singleness inseparably intertwined? Admittedly, young men are stereotypically dumb. (And in my experience of Asian churches, we are also frustratingly floppy and immature.) Indeed, Scripture presents young men as characteristically brash, overzealous, impatient, boastful, stupid; just look at Jesus’s disciples, especially in the book of Mark! And it isn’t just happenstance that Solomon wrote the book of Proverbs for his son. Young men, it seems, need more wisdom and more work than most.
But associating youth and selfishness is quite different than associating singleness and selfishness. So why does the church assume single men are immature?
My guess is that it is because of experience. Many married men were immature before marriage. After all, many young men are (finally) motivated/forced to grow up when they are captivated by a woman, and they wake up to the reality that women want to marry men, not (immature) boys. Therefore, often young men become godly because they want to get married, and by this self-selecting process, typically married men are more godly, more selfless, more focused than their single counterparts. And, by definition, if young men become not-young men while being married, they will link marriage and maturity, just as they link singleness and selfishness. Therefore—deriving lessons from experience, not Scripture—husbands (and their wives) can conclude that marriage is the means of sanctification. As one husband once told me, “There are two paths of sanctification: intense suffering or marriage.”
But, the last time I checked, Protestants rejected the Catholic imposition of marriage as a sacrament. (And we also rejected the Catholic teaching that priestly celibacy is the path of higher holiness). Even a bit of thought reveals the truth: if marriage truly made a man holy, why is adultery and divorce—sins only married people can commit—rampant in the church? If marriage makes a man holy, why are so many husbands addicts of porn, abusers of their wives, and terrors to their kids? If marriage makes a man holy, why is the church, dominated by families, riddled with worldliness and ungodliness? All other things being equal, are marrieds truly godlier than singles?
No. Scripture teaches that marriage is not a sacrament, nor the necessary means of sanctification. To those who are married, it is merely one arena—one glorious arena—by which the Spirit uses all the ordinary means of grace: His Word, His people, and His providence. The means of sanctification—for all Christians, whether single or married—is beholding Christ.
But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as from the Lord, the Spirit.
2 Cor 3:18
If God chooses to reveal the glory of the Lord through the triumph and travails of marriage, praise the Lord! But we must remember: the Lord Jesus Himself was a single man, bound to marry His beloved bride. Paul and Barnabas gave up their right to marry (1 Cor 9:5) for the sake of the kingdom, and the Spirit had no trouble conforming them to the image of the Son (Rom 8:29). Men have done great things for the Lord in their singleness (e.g. Cowper, Whitefield, etc.) and single men will continue to do great things for the Lord.
Sure, for most, marriage may be a normative means of sanctification. But it is assuredly not necessary. A single is commanded to be godly just as much as a married, and therefore a single is just as able to be godly as a married. While Christians may admit this in theory, we still often fail in practice. When was the last time a single person was chosen by your church to be a missionary, a deacon, an elder-pastor, a small group leader? Were godly, qualified men and women passed over—simply because they lacked a spouse? If the church magnifies the label of “Single” so much that it eclipses God’s label of “Saint,” we have exalted marital status over the blood of Jesus Christ.
Dying to Live
I have a friend in his early 50s, never married, celibate, and content in Christ. He has devoted his life to making disciples of Christ in the youth ministry, to use his singleness to make disciples for Christ. Only God knows how many seeds of the gospel he has planted; I expect to see his heavenly reward overwhelm the reward of many husbands because of his faithfulness. May his kind increase! He is a godly man, and he is my example and forerunner in the faith. His life reminds me that my greatest need is the living God—not a spouse. His quiet faithfulness, his productive service, his humble submission to the will of the Father is a corrective to my self-focused torment. I have needed reminders like this constantly over this past decade: that dying to what I want is the way to truly live. “…He died for all, so that they who live might no longer live for themselves, but for Him who died and rose again on their behalf” (2 Cor 5:15).
Getting my mind off myself and my singleness has been absolutely essential to loving my married friends. Sure, marrieds may not know many of the pains of prolonged singleness. But I have no idea what it’s like to bear the pressure of providing enough money for wife and kids. I have never had the love of my life betray me and lie to my face. I have never had my beloved child, for whom I would die, scorn me and insult me. I have never been so tired from feedings, diaper changes, doctors appointments, and whatever else it takes to keep a small human alive that I just feel like sleeping and never waking up. I have never borne the shame of being tempted to get a divorce. I can’t even begin to imagine the pain of feeling utterly alone in a marriage.
Just as marriage has been the God-chosen arena of married friends’ sins, struggles, and sanctification, so has my singleness been the God-chosen arena of my own sins, struggles, and sanctification. Marriage is not better than singleness and singleness is not better than marriage. At any station, contentment is the jewel. For now, God wants me to single. Is not this a good enough reason to kiss the hand that holds the rod? “…Shall we indeed accept good from God and not accept adversity?” (Job 2:10)
Joy to Find in Every Station
The fifth verse of the modern hymn, Jesus I My Cross Have Taken, says
Soul, then know thy full salvation
Rise o'er sin and fear and care
Joy to find in every station,
Something still to do or bear.
Think what Spirit dwells within thee,
Think what Father's smiles are thine,
Think that Jesus died to win thee,
Child of heaven, canst thou repine.[^4]
Singleness is my station, and I know with all my heart that there is joy to find here. I obey the verse, and proclaim to my own soul: the Spirit dwells within you (Rom 8:9); the Father shines His face of blessing upon you (Num 6:24-26); Christ died to win you (Rev 5:9). If the Triune God is for you, who can stand against me (Rom 8:31)? If the Triune God loves you, what do you lack?
Of all the blog posts, essays, and sermons I have written, the thing I have returned to most is the one I wrote ten years ago, on how Jesus is greater than marriage. I have read it for my own soul, to remind me that my all is Jesus Christ. More than anything else, it reminds me: Christ is my greatest need, and Christ is my all.
Married friends, remind me of this: my greatest need is Christ! Single friends, remind me of this: my greatest need is Christ!
Because I have Christ, I “have died and [my] life is hidden with Christ in God” (Col 3:3). I have no lack; I know His love and am “filled up to all the fullness of God” (Eph 3:19). He is for me “wisdom from God, and righteousness and sanctification, and redemption” (1 Cor 1:30). I have every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places in Christ (Eph 1:3). My boast is not in my wisdom, not in my might, not in my riches, not in my marital status (or lack thereof), but this: I know the God of lovingkindness, justice, and righteousness (Jer 9:23-24). I have a hope that will never die: not a wedding ring or an earthly companion, but the God of my salvation (John 15:15).
For now, singleness is my lot—and I embrace it by the grace of God.
Psalm 73
25 Whom have I in heaven but You?
And besides You, I desire nothing on earth.
26 My flesh and my heart may fail,
But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.
27 For, behold, those who are far from You will perish;
You have destroyed all those who are unfaithful to You.
28 But as for me, the nearness of God is my good;
I have made the Lord GOD my refuge,
That I may tell of all Your works.
Footnotes
[^1]: The gift of celibacy is a spiritual gift of lifelong singleness that God grants to a believer for the purpose of building up His church (1 Cor 7:7). It is different than the blessings/gift inherent to being temporarily single (i.e., flexibility, freedom, etc.).
[^2]: This is more than hypothetical. Another one of my professors was accused by a pastor of prospective church of being sexually immoral and therefore unfit for ministry—not because he had evidence but simply because my professor was single.
[^3]: In America, historically single men are barred from the senior pastorate and ministries that oversee families and children—youth ministry, where I work, is the exception.
[^4]: http://hymnbook.igracemusic.com/hymns/jesus-i-my-cross-have-taken