by Andy Stanley
Now what Frank and Sheila don’t realize is that their relationship just moved to a new level. They have, unbeknownst to either of them, slipped across the border into the outskirts of intimacy. Have they been intimate? Nope. Nobody has touched anybody. If Frank’s wife were to walk in, he could introduce her to Sheila with a clear conscience. But this conversation is the beginning of a different kind of relationship. And relationships almost always pick up where they left off.
As the team draws closer to their deadline, Frank’s boss suggests that he split the team into three smaller groups so they can work on three components simultaneously. As Frank gazes at the list of people on the team, he has a decision to make. Should he pair himself up with Shelia?
If this were a movie, this would be the part where you would want to stand up in the theater and shout, “Don’t do it! Run! Go home! Get another job! Think about your kids!” I wonder if God ever shouts those kinds of warnings at us? In the Old Testament, that was the role of the prophets. They usually ended up in jail, and the people they were shouting at usually ended up in trouble.
So here’s Frank, staring at his list. In his mind, this is a small decision. Looking back, this would be the decision he would regret most. Looking in the rearview mirror, this would be the day he would wish he could relive. This would be the decision he would most like to take back.
He hesitates. Once again, something tells Frank not to do it. But hey, there’s nothing wrong with working together on a project, right? The fact is, they have already been working together, and this isn’t anything new. There is no logical reason not to. In fact, there are a half-dozen good reasons to do it. So he writes her name next to his.
Okay, let’s get this over with.
One night Frank offers to drive Sheila home from work. She invites him in. When Frank crosses her threshold, their relationship moves deeper into the realm of intimacy. This time they feel it. There is nothing professional about any of this; this is all personal. But nothing happened. Nothing “wrong” or even “inappropriate.” They chat for few minutes and Frank leaves. But at this point, you can stick a fork in it.
The next morning Darla asks Frank where he had been so late. And even though there was nothing wrong with stopping at Sheila’s house, Frank doesn’t feel it’s necessary to mention it. Again, nobody has done anything wrong. Nothing has happened. But if Frank were to share it with Darla, you can bet your car she would think something was wrong.
Why? Because Darla is smart enough to know that relationships don’t stand still. They are always going somewhere. She wouldn’t respond to what had happened. She would react to where the whole thing was headed. That’s how wise people (and suspicious spouses) think.
Two nights later the same situation occurs, but this time Frank embraces Sheila at the door. They both know it is wrong. But the wheels of rationalization have been churning for so long that their excuses overwhelm their collective consciences. And you know the rest of the story—a story with a disturbing moral.
The adventures of Frank and Sheila underscore an extraordinary, life-changing, future-altering principle:
Every poor moral decision is prefaced by a series of unwise choices.
The irresistible urge that neither Frank nor Sheila had the willpower to overcome that night on the front porch was the culmination of a series of unwise choices. The feelings they misinterpreted as love, fate, destiny, and all the other silly things that drive people would have been nonexistent if they had chosen the path of wisdom. Theirs was a series of unwise choices that set them up for the one decision that would send their lives tumbling in a new and unenviable direction.
Imagine if either or both had paused early on in their relationship to ask the $19.95 question: What is the wise thing to do?
What if Frank or Sheila had been willing to face up to what was at stake rather than focus on where the line was between right and wrong? They had several opportunities to change the outcome of the story if either of them had been willing to ask and apply our question.
Again, every poor moral decision is prefaced by a series of unwise choices.
Got it?
Think once again about your greatest moral regret. Isn’t it true that your decision to cross a certain moral line was predicated by a series of choices that led to that final and most regretful one? And isn’t it true that you marched right along, justifying every choice with, There’s nothing wrong with …
And you were right. There probably was nothing wrong with most of those preliminary choices. But looking back, it’s all too clear, isn’t it? One “nothing wrong with” choice led to another, until the temptation was irresistible.
Life on the Edge
So many things in our culture bait us to the edge of moral disaster. And because it is all legal, acceptable, and permissible, we take the bait. We read the magazines, pipe in the movies, stare at the pictures, laugh at the jokes, wear the clothes, and listen to the music.
Let’s face it; purity is not a cultural value. Neither is modesty. While adultery is still frowned upon in most quarters, the impropriety that leads to adultery is actually encouraged, even celebrated. For the most part, teenage pregnancy is still considered a social evil. But again, the activities, fashion, and music that drive adolescents in that direction are not generally frowned upon. Parents fund the very activities that create the context for the act they consider so abhorrent. As long as we take our cues from the culture, purity and modesty will always be in the rearview mirror. Those lines will be crossed without a second thought. And once those lines are crossed, sexual misconduct is one easy decision away.
I was reminded of all this years ago when I was asked to participate in a task force designed to fight pornography. After about an hour of discussion, I raised my hand and asked what to me was an obvious question: “What exactly are we fighting? What is pornography?”
I won’t pollute your mind or these pages with the definition I was given. Suffice it to say, the stuff I’m confronted with daily that I’m committed to not putting in my mind, the stuff I’ve tried to protect my kids from—these didn’t even register with this group. What they were fighting was so far past the line of what I consider decent that I quit the task force. I remember thinking, If that’s the line of decency and acceptability, this war has already been lost.
My point? Each of us, at a personal level, must scramble back to some long-abandoned standard of purity and modesty. If we don’t, we will always find ourselves on the brink of moral disaster. Culture has drawn the line of decency far too close to the edge. To accept the standard handed to us by our culture is to live and relate in a very dangerous place.
Our question, however, will lead you to a place of safety, a place where there is margin for error. Let me illustrate.
Politically Incorrect
I decided at the beginning of our marriage not to eat alone with or ride in a car alone with another woman other than members of my family. I made this decision based upon the experience of countless others who readily admitted that their extramarital relationships began with something as innocent as a meal or a business trip. I figured that by eliminating those two activities, I would be eliminating two possible contexts for temptation. Later I added a third component to my personal commandments: I decided not to counsel alone with women.
Whenever I share these decisions publicly, I watch men and women shake their heads in disbelief. For most people it sounds impractical, even insensitive. I would never suggest that everybody adopt my standards. And I would be quick to acknowledge that there is nothing “wrong” with any of the behaviors I have mentioned. But I would also be quick to point out that neither Sandra nor I have ever regretted my decision, even though it has caused some awkward situations with people who didn’t understand and who took it personally. Through the years, I have met scores of people who wish they had adopted similar standards earlier in their careers.
Why go to such impractical lengths? Because every regretful moral decisi
on is preceded by a series of unwise choices—unwise choices that don’t raise an eyebrow or infringe upon our culturally programmed consciences. We all have certain lines we never intend to cross. But why draw those lines so close to the edge? Why set standards where the tug to ignore those standards is seemingly irresistible?
Men, let me ask you a really stupid question. What’s more difficult, resisting the temptation to ask someone to lunch or resisting the temptation to embrace an attractive woman who has invited you into her home? Remember the “I couldn’t help myself” excuse I derided in the previous chapter? Can you understand why this is such an anemic excuse for anything? Of course we can’t “help ourselves” in certain situations. We have led ourselves to the brink of disaster.
Ladies, what is more difficult, saying no to an invitation to lunch or resisting the advances of a man you are infatuated with, a man whom you have invited into your home late at night after a couple of drinks? “But I would never let things go that far,” you argue. Of course, you wouldn’t. In fact, everybody who has ever allowed things to go that far never intended them to go that far. That’s exactly why things went that far. Men and women didn’t intend for them to, so consequently, they trusted their intentions to keep them out of trouble.
Wake up! You never intended to get yourself into any of the situations you now regret. Right? Your financial, moral, professional, and relational regrets all came about unintentionally. Nobody intends to blow up a marriage. Nobody intends to become buried in debt. Nobody intends to destroy a career. Nobody intends to be alienated from his or her children. Nobody intends to become addicted to anything. Your own experience substantiates the fact that intentions are pretty much a worthless defense against temptation and regret. It takes more than good intentions to cross the finish line in any area of life.
None of us plan—or intend—to get into trouble. The problem is, we don’t plan not to. Adopting our question enables us to plan not to. It puts feet to our intentions. It gives us traction to stand our ground against the seemingly overwhelming current of culture.
Here’s how it works.
Our question will lead you away from the brink of a decision you may regret to a place of safety. This fact alone is why it’s so easy to disregard this question in the arena of sexuality. Like you, I don’t want to miss out on anything life has to offer. So my natural inclination is to ask, “Where’s the line between right and wrong?” Once that is established, I want to cozy up to the line and live right there. To do otherwise may mean missing out on something good.
At the same time, I don’t want to do anything now that will haunt me in the future. And there’s a part of me that wants to please my heavenly Father. So once I’ve recognized where the line is, I try not to cross it. The problem with this approach is that there is no margin for error. In most areas of life, that is not a problem. If the speed limit is fifty-five miles per hour, I drive fifty-five miles per hour. If my thoughts drift and I find myself roaring down the highway at sixty miles per hour, no harm done. I just ease off the gas. When I was sixteen and my curfew was midnight, I tried to time it so that I arrived home right at midnight. I gave myself no margin for error. If I was a few minutes late, no problem, no consequences. If you violate the guidelines of your diet for a day, no problem. You just ease back into your routine the following day.
But when you cross certain lines sexually, there are always consequences, sometimes for the rest of your life. Slipping over “the line” in this particular arena of life can mean kids growing up without a dad in the home. It can result in women fending for themselves financially while trying to raise their children. It means men living with the constant distraction of images they can’t erase from their minds. It means young women losing the opportunity to give themselves wholly to their husbands on their wedding nights. It means men constantly struggling not to compare their wives to other women they have slept with in the past. It can mean living with the burden of an incurable disease. As in the case of three friends of mine, crossing certain lines sexually can mean death—death that leaves a hole in a family, a mother mourning the loss of a child, brothers and sisters devastated. In the case of the HIV epidemic in Africa, crossing certain lines morally has resulted in hundreds of thousands of homeless children.
Let me be blunt. To leave yourself no margin for error morally is about the most insensitive thing you can do to those you love. Relationally, it is a death wish. It is the worst kind of arrogance. It is tantamount to a recovering alcoholic walking into a bar and sitting down on a barstool, all the while justifying his actions with the excuse, “There’s nothing wrong with being here as long as I’m not drinking.”
Stepping Back
Wisdom would dictate that we establish some artificial boundaries a safe distance away from the moral point of no return. Boundaries so far from the brink of disaster that, should you violate one, the consequences would be minimal. Thus, my decision not to be alone with women in certain environments.
I hesitate to include this next example lest you think I’m a total societal reject. But you’re more than halfway through the book now, so you might as well finish. And let me qualify this by saying that I’m not suggesting anybody follow my lead on this. It’s just an example of something I did based on what I thought was wise for me.
I didn’t own a television until I was thirty.
Am I a freak or what?
I lived alone during graduate school, and I knew what a subscription to cable would pipe into my apartment. I didn’t want to deal with the temptation, so I never purchased a TV. After graduate school, I bought a nice condo in Atlanta. My parents gave me a beautiful cherry-wood television cabinet. But I didn’t purchase a television until four years later when I married Sandra.
I can’t begin to tell you how many people kept trying to give me televisions. They would open up my cabinet and ask, “Where’s the TV?”
“I don’t have one.”
“You don’t have one?”
“No.”
“We’ve got an extra one you can have.”
No one understood and I wasn’t about to explain. But I knew from experience that it was easier to resist the temptation to buy a television than it was to control what I watched. Do you think I now regret that decision? Do you suppose I look back on those ten years and think how much richer my life would have been if only I’d had a television all that time? Not for a second. Would it have been wrong for me to own a television? Nope. But knowing what I knew then, I felt it would be unwise. Knowing what I know now, I think it was one of the best decisions I ever made.
Extreme? Yes. But in light of the extreme consequences of a moral failure, isn’t extreme precaution appropriate? Let’s turn it around and look at it through a different set of lenses.
How extreme do you want your current or future spouse to be when it comes to protecting himself or herself from unnecessary temptation in this arena? You may want to close the book and think about that for a few minutes. Your answer to this question will help you cut through the fog of self-deception. After all, what’s appropriate for your spouse is certainly appropriate for you.
Try this. To what extreme would you be willing to go to protect your children from having to navigate the complexities of a home divided over someone’s sexual impropriety, be it adultery or a sexual addiction? What precautions would you be willing to take in order to ensure that they never have to suffer through the emotional complications of a broken home?
In light of what is at stake, what is the wise thing for you to do? In light of what you want for your marriage and your family, what is the wise thing to do? In light of the extreme consequences associated with moral failure, what extreme measures are you willing to take? To what extreme are you willing to go to protect what’s most important to you?
But What About …
Yes, people will chuckle, and your close friends may not understand. Yes, it will complicate things at times, and it will not always be convenient. And yes
, it will send an unspoken message to your family about how important they are to you. No, you will never regret it.
Having waded with broken people through just about every scenario imaginable, I thought it might be helpful, if not meddlesome, to share the top five environments in which the seeds for moral failure are sown in the life of a married person. And let me go ahead and state up front, there’s nothing wrong with any of these things:
• Chatting online with members of the opposite sex
• Dinner after work with members of the opposite sex
• Working with a personal trainer of the opposite sex
• Counseling with members of the opposite sex
• Ladies’ night out dancing while husbands stay home
I’ve seen so much heartbreak stemming from these five situations that it is easy for me to eliminate these as options for my life. Especially number five. I never get invited.
Wisdom dictates that each of us sets standards that will keep us out of harm’s way. These should be boundaries that are so far from the line of regret that, were we to cross one, we would suffer little or no consequences. When these are in place, a fascinating dynamic occurs: your conscience actually latches on to the artificial standard you have set. When you violate one of your self-imposed rules, you feel guilty. And that low-risk guilt serves as a reminder that you are venturing into dangerous territory.
Conscience Point
Some time ago I traveled to Dallas with Sandra to speak at a leadership conference. I’d been asked to come a day early to visit several radio and TV stations and do interviews to promote the event. I was informed that a driver would pick me up at the hotel at 8 a.m. and escort me back and forth between stations. I assumed the driver would be a man. Never assume anything. Sandra, meanwhile, decided to spend that day shopping with a friend.
That morning I stepped outside the hotel at the appointed time to meet my ride. Parked in front of the hotel was a nice white Lexus with a woman sitting alone in the driver’s seat. I thought to myself, There’s a nice white Lexus with a woman sitting in the driver’s seat. I wonder where my ride is.