An old story exists of a king who lived in the BC era. He normally went out to check on his land and protect his people from invaders. This king decided not to go one season, as his mighty men were highly capable. They could oversee and fight any necessary battles without him.
Nothing like a little more time on your hands, right?
He happened to see a woman ceremonially bathing on her roof top, and he was hooked. This woman had to be his. He met with her, slept with her and begot a child with her. In attempt to cover up his unfaithful role in this pregnancy, the king tried to manipulate her husband to leave his active military post and reunited with his wife in a love fest.
When the faithful man refused to leave his post, the royal hit the fan. In a heinous act, the king sends his loyal soldier to a battle, certain of the outcome. This man’s death. The king had been unfaithful to this couple, and getting rid of a husband seemed the only way out.
The way made, the king added this woman to his bevy of wives. His conscience seared, the king repented in a soul-telling lament, Psalm 51, but the deed was done, affecting his children for generations. At the sperm of the moment, so-to-speak, infidelity flashes hot, white and delightful. But as days run on, a stockpile of stories is invented to cover up the arranged acts of infidelity. Eventually, the exhaustion of the coverup should outweigh the joy of sex. But it doesn’t. Infidelity only entangles deeper, and it lies every single time, weaving an unholy spell.
Some of us launch into infidelity without a smidgen of thought. Others wrestle with the decision, ultimately to either land on the side of fidelity, or descend into the world of unfaithfulness. In the latter case, infidelity leaves those left behind empty, confused and truly, in a quandary. If the spouse confronts the other, their lives will become even messier than normal family life. If one remains silent, the living lie festers, filtering into the family indirectly in anger, mistrust and
inattention. The world is filled with YouTube and Facebook rants against a cheating spouse, exposing all.
With others, the infidelity remains a secret, the love child never talked about. The goal is to not hurt the children, and destroy lives carefully constructed with agendas and schedules and holiday travels. But truth will have its day, and kids are far smarter than we give them credit. Family unity is severed as a vein in a back-alley fight.
Sadly, family secrets of this nature are more common than rare. We know this. We perhaps are living this. Voice messages turn into explicit words into multi-video chats. The emotional affair flairs into the physical realm. Tech-savvy children can happen upon the recordings. A night-wandering teen can find a parent asleep on a couch, with pornography flitting across the screen.
Not a visible scar upon the child, but the heart wails a different story. “Are we going to lose Daddy?” The child wonders. “Is Mom going to leave us?”
I grew up in the 60s, the Revolution of Revolutions: the sexual one. Oddly, the neighborhood treehouse was not too far from being Ancient Rome. Graphic images littered the wood planks with magazine photos, some called ‘tasteful,’ a preteen eyeopener to be sure. The treehouse had gone from plastic soldiers to naked women almost overnight.
Seeing sexualized images rewires the brain, in any of us, imprinting on the young particularly. This spoken as one who knows, all before I hit my 11 th birthday. No news here. We’re saturated with sex. Technological algorithms love our exposure, as much as they elevate cat videos. I wrestle with watching a P-13 movie for fear of how much skin they
might show, despite the content warning.
No news here, but books are no different. One Christmas, I received a Kindle Fire. I had always been opposed to books that weren’t physical pages, but here the world of books was at my fingertips. The thought rushed through me. I can read any kind of book I want, even having given up bodice-rippers decades earlier, and no one would know. So very tempting, it all.
Yes, you must be thinking this old girl a prude. Truly, I wished that had been the case in my younger years. There’s such a mighty big chasm between love and insta-pleasure. Marriage is delicious. Marriage is harder some seasons over others. But infidelity, be it physical or emotional, comes in like a virus. It lodges in our hearts waiting to rage into a full-blown attack. Yes, a couple can recover. But notice nobody is celebrating the overcoming. Adultery is a serious battle with serious consequences, and the faster the tech comes, the more elicit the rendezvous, the quicker we jump in without thinking. Yes, we can start over. Yes, healing happens if the aggrieved spouse is opened to it. Hope
remains. But the memories, the doubt, the imagination, brings the fight home to the one who didn’t participate in the chaos, didn’t break the marital vow. Spouse and children, they scar.
Forgiveness will hopeful occur, but trust is lost. And trust is hard to regain. It’s like this: the effects of giving in, either through technology or in the physical, ripples its way through a family, splitting it like lightning does a solid oak.
Again, nothing new here, but are those moments of pleasure really worth segregating family dinners and different households? Of young adults not speaking to parents? Of grandchildren not knowing grandparents?
It’s become so common place that we don’t even think much of it anymore. We don’t think through the end of the story, the time stolen, the lies created, the relationships shattered, the generational curses.
But shouldn’t we? Shouldn’t we zip our pants up and start pondering the effects produced by infidelity upon our children and culture? In the world of insta-everything, shouldn’t we remember the best thing in life is being faithful, be it spouse, friend, or an on-line DM?
After all is said and done, aren’t we in awe of a couple who has stayed the course? Isn’t this a legacy best left to our children, where in this age of the world at our fingertips, we choose a faithful legacy and do everything within our prayer and power to flee temptation?
Not preaching here from a high place, friends. Preaching to remind this choir of one.
Infidelity of heart, mind and body kills. Faithfulness lasts.
