The Book I Never Wrote

I read today that Josh Harris has apologized for the effect that his book I Kissed Dating Goodbye had on some people in the most vulnerable, most sensitive years of their lives. And it took me back almost 20 years into my past.

You see, 20 years ago, I was deep under the influence of the Institute in Basic Life Principles (IBLP), the cult that made Josh Harris’s thoughts a virtual mandate from God. And so was my husband-to-be. In fact, the future husband was out-Gotharding Gothard and out-Harrising Harris. And he convinced me, through casual conversations, that his interpretation of Scripture regarding God’s plan for finding a spouse was the true “godly way,” and that Gothard and Harris hadn’t gone far enough. Future husband believed in a form of arranged marriage.

I’m not going to go into all of it here. That’s not the purpose of this post. What I do want to look at is the aftermath of the way our engagement was contracted, the incredible spiritual pride that had been instilled in us because we “chose a higher standard,” and the incredible grace of God that prevented us from doing as much damage to the younger generations of the church as Harris’s book and Gothard’s courtship teaching did.

Gothard’s teachings are dangerous for many reasons, but one of the most insidious was the way that they encouraged people to be proud of their spiritual choices. If someone challenged you, you simply assumed that they had not chosen as high a standard as you had. (One of the catch-phrases was “others may; I cannot.” Why did we not see how self-righteous such a statement can be?!) Do you see the way that thinking you have chosen “a higher standard” leads people into hubris — how it subtly leads you to see yourself as better than others? It leads you to the Pharisee’s prayer: “Thank you God, that I am not a terrible sinner. I’m not an extortioner, or unjust, or an adulterer. And I’m not like that guy over there. I fast regularly and give to charity. I choose a higher standard.” (See Luke 18:9-14.)

So the future husband and I chose this “higher path” of letting our parents choose our spouse. My parents were stunned when they got the call from his parents and insisted that I should have a choice. The reasons I said “yes” are complex, but I went along with the “parents choose” thing for two reasons: I was desperately seeking to grow closer to God at that time of my life and “choosing a higher standard” seemed like a good way to accomplish that, and the idea of choosing a “higher standard” was, itself, alluring … who doesn’t want to choose “the most godly possible way”? Pride was seeping in — though I didn’t recognize that feeling as pride at that time. It was years later that I realised it was spiritual pride to think that my interpretation, my understanding, of God’s will was a “higher standard” than someone else’s. Essentially, we were standing there praying, “Thank you, God, that we’re not like these other people who didn’t go about finding a spouse the right way. We followed your highest and best plan. We did it right.”

After our marriage, the husband and I started writing the story of our relationship. We wanted to show other people “the right and godly way” to contract a marriage. We were still in the grip of honeymoon bliss, and we were convinced that God was blessing us for having chosen “his best.”

I ran across the first few chapters of that book the other day, along with a letter that I started writing to Elisabeth Elliot to share with her how her recommendations for a godly approach to dating in Passion and Purity didn’t go far enough. (Omigosh, the arrogance!) But God, in his wisdom, never let that book or that letter be finished.

Our marriage imploded. It didn’t last even five years. We hadn’t found anything like “the right and godly way.” We’d been tricked into believing that we were God’s special emissaries for “true betrothal,” when we were, in fact, deluded into making the biggest mistake of our lives — we entered into marriage with no true idea of the person we were marrying and a false understanding of who we, ourselves, were.

After the divorce, I packed away all the keepsakes from those years, including the drafts of the book and the letter about our “courtship.” When I came across them the other day, I was disgusted by the smug, self-righteous tone of the writing. And I gave heartfelt thanks to God that this book was never written.

I don’t know what Josh Harris is going to do about his book. But if mine had been completed and published, I would have to retract it. Find every copy I could and destroy it.  And I would have to repent and beg forgiveness (from God and from those I’d led astray) for damaging others in their walk with God. Josh Harris will be in my prayers. He’s facing a difficult and painful task. And I pray that God gives him the wisdom and courage to accomplish whatever he needs to do.

Tags: Bible interpretation, Bill Gothard, challenges, character, Christianity, church, cult, divorce, faith, false teaching, grace, IBLP, marriage, Religion, True Stories