The Three Camps of Divorce Theology (And Why They All Miss the Point)
The yelling echoed through my grandparents' house. I was six or seven years old, sitting in the corner watching my father and grandfather go at it while my aunts cried nearby. All three of my father's sisters were going through divorces, and the men in my family were split down theological lines about what this meant for their eternal destiny.
"It's not right! They won't be saved!" my father shouted.
"James, it isn't true. You're putting burdens on people that God never intended," my grandfather fired back.
As a small child, I wondered if I'd ever be allowed back at my grandparents' house. The fight was that intense. This was my introduction to the war over divorce theology that would shape decades of my life and ministry.
Looking back now, I can see that both men were sincere in their desire to honor God and help people. But they were operating from the same flawed assumption: that somewhere in the Bible was a precise formula for handling divorce and remarriage that, if followed correctly, would produce righteousness.
They were looking for law when they should have been looking for love.
The Liberal Position: Seeking Mercy Through Loopholes
My great-grandfather and grandfather represented what we called the "liberal" position on divorce and remarriage. They believed you could divorce and remarry if there was unfaithfulness. They believed you could divorce and remarry if an unbeliever left a believer. They even believed that if a man didn't provide for his own household, he had "denied the faith and was worse than an infidel" (1 Timothy 5:8, NKJV), which made him an unbeliever, so the believer could leave.
Their hearts were in the right place—they were basically looking for ways to show mercy. They saw hurting people and wanted to find biblical justification for offering them relief and hope for new beginnings.
But they were still operating within a legalistic framework. They had to conform very carefully to what they believed the Bible said. They needed technical exceptions, biblical loopholes that would allow them to extend grace while maintaining their commitment to scriptural authority.
This position often led to painful scrutinizing of people's situations. Was there enough evidence of unfaithfulness? Did the behavior qualify as "not providing"? Could this person be categorized as an unbeliever based on their actions?
The emphasis remained on finding the right technicality rather than asking what love required.
The Moderate Position: Waiting for the Magic Exception
The second camp was more restrictive but still sought exceptions. This was closer to what many conservative churches teach today: if your spouse has been unfaithful, then there's your technicality. Now you can get out of the marriage and still maintain your standing in the Christian community.
This position created its own set of problems. I actually knew people who would set their spouses up for failure because they wanted grounds for divorce but needed to maintain their religious reputation.
I had a friend whose pastor husband wanted to be rid of her. He knew about certain struggles she'd had when she was younger, and he actually created a situation—even hired a private investigator—to catch her in unfaithfulness so he could have grounds for divorce and keep his ministry.
This is what legalism produces: people manipulating situations to create the "right" kind of sin so they can follow the "right" kind of rule while achieving the outcome they want anyway.
The woman in this situation was living in an abusive marriage with a man who was emotionally unavailable and manipulative. When she fell into temptation, it wasn't excusable, but it wasn't surprising either. She wasn't feeling loved or valued at home.
But the system focused on her failure rather than addressing the conditions that contributed to it. He got his "biblical" divorce while she bore the shame and blame.
The Strict Position: When Grace Becomes Condemnation
The third position was the one I was raised with—the most restrictive of all. My father believed you could divorce if absolutely necessary, but you could never remarry for any reason. Even if you had been divorced before becoming a Christian, that previous marriage was still binding because "marriage is honorable among all and the bed undefiled" (Hebrews 13:4, NKJV)—making it a universal principle applying to believers and unbelievers alike.
This interpretation meant that people who came into our church already in second marriages were told they might need to leave their current spouse because they were "living in adultery." We questioned whether they could even be saved while in such a relationship.
When Jesus said that whoever divorces and remarries commits adultery (Mark 10:11-12, NKJV), and Paul said adulterers will not inherit the kingdom of God (1 Corinthians 6:9-10, NKJV), the logic seemed airtight: remarriage equals adultery, adultery disqualifies you from the kingdom, therefore remarried people cannot be saved.
This position destroyed families and created impossible situations for people who were genuinely trying to follow God.
The Dramatic Reversal
What made this even more painful was watching my father completely reverse his position in his mid-twenties after years of holding this strict interpretation. I was away preaching when he walked to the pulpit one Tuesday night and announced to the church:
"I've come to you tonight to make some things right. I've been wrong. I need to repent and ask for your forgiveness."
He opened his Bible and went down the line, explaining where his theology had been incorrect and what he now believed scripture actually taught about divorce and remarriage.
My mother didn't even know he was going to do this. She was not pleased because it took her years to come around to his new understanding.
The consequences were swift and severe. My father-in-law, who was also a pastor and held to the strict position, immediately "disfellowshipped" our church—essentially excommunicating us from their fellowship over this issue.
When I called to ask what this meant for my relationship with him, he said, "If you believe what your father believes, then you're disfellowshipped too."
Picture this: I was a young married man suddenly cut off from my wife's family because of a theological disagreement about divorce and remarriage. It created fractures in our family relationships that took years to heal.
The Fundamental Flaw in All Three Approaches
Looking back now, I can see that all three positions shared the same fundamental flaw: they were all approaching scripture like an encyclopedia Britannica, looking for precise formulas that would work regardless of context, relationship, or the movement of Holy Spirit.
We were all trying to create systematic theology that would provide answers for every situation rather than seeking wisdom for specific circumstances. We wanted to turn Jesus' teachings and Paul's letters into timeless law codes that would remove the need for discernment, prayer, and dependence on God's ongoing guidance.
But scripture wasn't written to be a legal code. It was written to point us toward relationship with a living God who is actively involved in our lives and situations.
What Jesus Was Actually Doing
When the Pharisees asked Jesus, "Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife for just any reason?" (Matthew 19:3, NKJV), they weren't seeking wisdom for pastoral care. They were trying to trap him in a legal debate.
Jesus' response needs to be understood in context. He was speaking to men under the Mosaic law who had created their own interpretations that allowed them to divorce their wives "for any reason at all"—including things like burning dinner. In that culture, women had no economic independence and no right to initiate divorce themselves. Being "put away" often meant destitution or prostitution.
When Jesus said divorce was only acceptable for sexual immorality, he wasn't creating Christian law for all time. He was speaking into a specific cultural situation where men were abusing their power and discarding women like property.
Notice the disciples' response: "If such is the case of the man with his wife, it is better not to marry" (Matthew 19:10, NKJV). These were the future apostles, and their reaction reveals how warped their understanding of marriage was. They essentially said, "If we can't just throw our wives away whenever we want, marriage isn't worth it."
Jesus was correcting the legalism of that system, not creating new legalism for ours.
Moving from Law to Love
When we come into the new covenant, we have to ask different questions. Instead of "What does the law allow?" we ask "What does love require?" Instead of seeking technicalities and exceptions, we seek wisdom and discernment for specific situations.
This doesn't mean we ignore what Jesus taught or what Paul wrote. It means we understand that they were providing principles and wisdom rather than creating new legal codes. We take those principles seriously, but we apply them through relationship with Holy Spirit rather than through rigid formulas.
What Love Actually Looks Like
So what does love say about marriage and divorce? Love says:
Fight for your marriage. Work hard to make it succeed. Seek counseling. Address your own issues. Extend forgiveness. Practice patience. Love doesn't give up easily.
But love also refuses to enable destruction. Love doesn't allow abuse to continue unchecked. Love doesn't prop up addiction or manipulation. Love sometimes requires boundaries that feel harsh but are actually merciful.
Love considers everyone affected. This includes children who are being damaged by conflict, spouses whose wellbeing is being destroyed, and extended family and community who are impacted by the situation.
Love sometimes says it's over. And this can even be what's best for the person who doesn't want it to end. Love that insists on forcing someone to stay in a relationship where they're miserable or destructive isn't love—it's control.
When I finally understood this, it revolutionized my approach to counseling people in difficult marriages. Instead of looking for biblical technicalities, I started asking, "What does genuine love require in this specific situation?"
Sometimes that meant intensive counseling and hard work to rebuild. Sometimes it meant separation to create space for healing. And sometimes it meant releasing someone with grace because the relationship had become mutually destructive.
The Hierarchy of Truth
What helped me process this was understanding that not all truth is created equal. Jesus himself taught this when he said the Pharisees were careful about tithing herbs but omitted "the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faith" (Matthew 23:23, NKJV).
There's a hierarchy to truth. The law of love is greater than any specific regulation about marriage. When someone is being abused, love doesn't say, "Well, you need to stay because that's what the rule book says." Love says, "I have to protect you because that's what love does."
Jesus demonstrated this principle repeatedly when he healed people on the Sabbath. The religious leaders accused him of breaking God's law, but Jesus responded that they had elevated their interpretation of Sabbath law above the wellbeing of actual people.
"The Sabbath was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath" (Mark 2:27, NKJV).
The same principle applies to marriage: marriage was made for people, not people for marriage. When preserving the institution becomes more important than the wellbeing of the individuals within it, we've lost the heart of God entirely.
A Personal Revelation
The turning point for me came when I was counseling a couple through a very destructive relationship. I was trying so hard to stick with what I thought scripture taught, trying to interpret Jesus' words very legalistically, when I heard Holy Spirit say to me so clearly: "Tell her to get a divorce."
How do you reconcile that with what you think the Bible teaches? I had to walk my way through that question, and that's when my thinking began to shift.
I realized that Jesus wasn't trying to create a new set of laws for the new covenant. He wasn't establishing precise regulations that would control every situation for all time. He was pointing us toward love—teaching us to ask what love requires rather than what rules permit.
The Fruit of Different Approaches
Looking at the fruit of these different theological positions reveals their true character:
The legalistic approaches (whether liberal, moderate, or strict) all produced fear, manipulation, and spiritual abuse. People stayed in destructive situations out of terror rather than love. Others manipulated circumstances to create "acceptable" reasons for divorce. Still others lived in condemnation, convinced they were beyond God's grace because of their marital status.
The love-based approach produces freedom, healing, and authentic relationships. People fight for their marriages from a place of choice rather than compulsion. When relationships must end, they can do so with grace rather than manipulation. Those who remarry can do so with confidence in God's blessing rather than shame about their past.
The difference in fruit reveals which approach actually reflects God's heart.
Practical Application
So how do we apply this in real situations? We ask the right questions:
Are both people safe in this relationship?
Is there genuine repentance and change, or just promises and manipulation?
What would be best for any children involved?
Have genuine efforts been made to seek help and healing?
Is this relationship producing the fruit of God's Kingdom, or is it releasing destruction?
What does wisdom, informed by love, suggest for this specific situation?
We weigh all the principles scripture gives us—commitment, forgiveness, love, protection of the vulnerable, personal responsibility—and we seek Holy Spirit's guidance for how to apply them wisely.
Freedom to Choose Love
Here's what I discovered through my own journey and years of counseling others: until you're willing to lay a relationship down and let it die, it doesn't actually have the opportunity to truly live.
Freedom is a major ingredient for true success in any relationship. When someone stays only because they feel trapped by religious obligation, that's not a testament to God's design—it's a tragic distortion of it.
Authentic love can only exist where authentic choice exists. And sometimes choosing love means having the courage to say, "This isn't working, and continuing to pretend it is isn't helping either of us."
A Word to Those Walking This Path
If you're facing this decision right now, know that you're not alone and you're not condemned. God is not waiting for you to figure out the perfect theological formula before he'll walk with you through this valley.
Seek wise counsel from people who know both scripture and the messiness of real life. Take time to work on yourself so you're making decisions from wholeness rather than woundedness. But don't stay trapped in a system that prioritizes institutional preservation over human flourishing.
The story isn't over, whether your marriage is healed through miraculous transformation or whether you find yourself walking a different path. God's grace is sufficient for whatever comes next.
What matters most isn't which theological camp you choose, but whether you're allowing love—real, practical, wisdom-informed love—to guide your decisions.
And love, as it turns out, is a much better counselor than law ever was.
Blessings,
Susan 😊