Passive Persecution

I opened for my beloved, but my beloved had left; he was gone. . . .
I looked for him but did not find him.
I called him but he did not answer.

Song Of Songs 5:6

AN ENTIRE CATEGORY OF WOUNDING IN MARRIAGE RECEIVES LITTLE NOTICE, though it wreaks great havoc on many relationships. For lack of a better phrase, I call it passive persecution.

There is a moment in a marriage when neglect—a passive reality—becomes persecution—an active wound. What is withheld starts hurting, and it becomes a living irritant. Its devastation grows worse when the sore wound gets regularly pummeled by continued neglect.

What makes passive persecution so pernicious is that those who cause the injury almost never realize it, or if they do, they minimize the pain their partners feel. “I’m not doing anything,” they protest—but that’s precisely the point! It’s their “not doing anything” that hurts so much.

When a man can go an entire week without having a single conversation with his wife that goes beyond utilitarian purposes; when he can go two weeks without inquiring about how his wife is really feeling, what went on inside her when her sister accused her of something or a friend stood her up—she suffers an ongoing wound. The first cut came when she recognized the neglect, thinking, He let me down. The second cut comes when her husband doesn’t even realize their emotional intimacy has dipped to about 1.5 on a scale of 1 to 10.

It’s only a matter of time until He let me down becomes He doesn’t even care that he let me down. Now it’s no longer an event that upset her; it’s turned into an ongoing assault. It won’t be long before disappointment morphs into resentment, resentment evolves into bitterness, and then, more often than not, the husband will eventually run into an explosion of bottled-up emotions suddenly unleashed over the seemingly smallest event: “So I forgot you had a doctor’s appointment today and didn’t ask you about it; what’s the big deal? Does that make me a bad husband?”

Men often feel passive persecution in the bedroom. When a man gets denied, regularly put off, or even just not approached, after a season he starts to hurt, as if something active were being done to him. Every day feels like a wound. The wife may think, We had sex a week ago; we’ve been busy. What’s the big deal? But he’s thinking, It’s now been seven days, and the silence of the last five nights feels like a slap in the face—yet another malicious assault. The wife thinks nothing is being done, but that nothing feels like something to her husband. And he begins to shut down.

I don’t know how else to describe it, but something takes place in a sexually neglected man’s soul. He doesn’t just step back physically; he removes part of himself spiritually and emotionally as well. In spiritually acute situations, he may begin to look elsewhere, even if only through his eyes or in his thoughts, which can open the door to any number of evils our fallen world eagerly exploits.

Passive persecution doesn’t have a unilateral remedy. Many times it’s born in high expectations, and the spouse who feels persecuted will need to reevaluate his or her disappointment and honestly explore whether the offense he or she is feeling springs more from narcissistic self-focus and demands than from true, honest neglect.

But this is not to say that the offended spouse may not have a case—in most instances, they do. Marriage asks so much of us that it’s inevitable we will let things slip. When we do, it’s our responsibility to ask for forgiveness, sincerely try to empathize with our spouses’ feelings of abandonment and hurt, and pledge ourselves to get better at providing active care.

Marriage asks so much of us that it’s inevitable we will let things slip.

Here’s a word picture that may help: Let’s say you’re on a hike with your spouse. It’s hot, and you feel like you’d kill for a drink of water. You’re so thirsty your body has started to shut down, so that almost all you can think about is something to drink. Your spouse keeps staying just far enough ahead of you that when you cry out, he can’t hear your voice. He finally stops at a lookout, allowing you to catch up, and you watch as he consumes the last swallow of Gatorade.

“Give me some of that!” you say, only to hear, “Sorry, that was the last drop; didn’t you bring any?”

“I’m out, and I’m dying of thirst!”

“Oh well, there’s a stream a few more miles up the trail; it shouldn’t take us more than another hour or so.”

You’d probably be furious at your spouse, and understandably so. In that wilderness, he represented your only source of refreshment. It may not have been his fault that you’re so thirsty, but certainly, he could have eased your pain and yet chose not to or, at least, simply neglected to consider you.

What aren’t you hearing today? What neglect, what passive persecution, might you be leveling against your spouse at this very moment? There are some things in life only a spouse can provide; if you deny these things, it becomes an absolute denial.

Here’s a challenge: why not ask your spouse, “Hey, are you thirsty? If so, in what way?” I’ve talked to enough couples to know there’s almost always at least one area in which your spouse feels neglected. The duties of marriage are too many and too diverse for that not to be the case.

Let’s allow kindness and even generosity to govern us. The person you’re talking to took a tremendous risk. Out of all the billions of people on the face of the earth, he or she chose to spend this life with you. When your spouse made this decision, he or she put himself or herself at your mercy, since, as we said before, there are certain things only a spouse can provide. Let’s honor that trust with open hands and enthusiastic hearts. You may think you’re not doing anything, but remember that “not doing anything” can well be a direct assault on your spouse: “You gave no water to the weary and you withheld food from the hungry” (Job 22:7).