Kierkegaard is my Marriage Therapist

Back in February of this year, I took a rugged hike with several incredible lady friends. Our hours-long conversation about marriage still rings in my mind today. One friend, 40 years old, had been divorced. Another, in her mid-30’s, was certain she never would be married after her parents’ experience. And the last, at 19 years old, wasn’t sure but was open to the idea.

Then there’s me. I described to them the Getting There project. I shared my concerns about marriage—its historical legacy in gendered stereotypes, its exclusion of , its insistence on monogamy, its fantasy of everlasting happiness and romance, among many, many other concerns. And after my too-long soliloquy, my friend asked, “So… why then are you getting married?”

Well, good question. My answer is incomplete, but it helps to have Kierkegaard as my marriage therapist.

In a high school English class we were assigned to read Fear and Trembling by Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard. The book centers around the Biblical story of Abraham, who was entirely ready to sacrifice his beloved son, Isaac, at God’s command. Kierkegaard discusses Abraham’s willingness as the archetype of absolute faith—and specifically—of 'teleological suspension.’ This concept of teleological suspension has stuck with me, and now serves as a useful way of explaining why, despite my best thinking, I still want to get married.

Teleological suspension of the ethical (in my basic understanding, anyway) is a leap of faith: it describes our ability to halt, immobilize, turn off, suspend, our rational decision making and even moral beliefs for our faith in a larger meaning or cause. The story of Abraham and Isaac is a great illustration of this because it is so extreme: Abraham suspends his mortal love of his son and the deeply ingrained idea that he should not kill his son for his larger faith in God. He could not rationalize this request from God, but he was willing to go through with it because he understood it was part of a larger question, pursuit, reality architected by God. 

So, teleological suspension is a leap of faith. It helps me reconcile why, despite my knowledge of marriage’s historically warped function and the extreme difficulty of co-captaining a loving, supportive union for one’s entire life, I still want to get married to one person and remain so until my last breath. I do not and cannot understand it fully with my brain. But with acts of faith, we’re not supposed to. Kierkegaard—of all people!—helps me see marriage as a spiritual journey, a life-long leap of faith.