You Shall Not Commit Adultery

7 Sept

Exodus 20:14, Matthew 5:27-32

This commandment comes with a disclaimer. Whenever we talk about relationships, marriage, sex, and sexuality, we are talking into rooms full of different stories. Some people are in marriages that are joyful and strong. Others are in marriages that are painful, joyless, and hard. Some have been betrayed. Some have experienced divorce. Some are carrying desires they haven't told anyone about. Some are ashamed of the past. Some are struggling right now.

What God Made

Start at the beginning. Genesis 2 gives us the foundation. God parades every creature before Adam, searching for a suitable helper, and none exists. Then God takes a rib from Adam's side and builds Eve. When Adam sees her, he speaks the first poem in human history: bone of my bones, flesh of my flesh. There is an intimacy in those words, a sense of recognition and belonging, of two people who were made from the same material finally standing in front of each other.

Verse 24 draws the line: a man leaves his father and mother, is united to his wife, and the two become one flesh.

This is God's design for marriage: a covenant of commitment, faithfulness, and love. A daily promise, not a single moment. When couples in Anglican weddings are asked do you take this person, they don't say I do. They say I will. Not just right now, but every morning. A commitment that renews itself.

This is what the seventh commandment is protecting. Not because God is against sex or against joy, but because he made something good and he wants to guard it. The command isn't restrictive, it's protective.

Where It Starts

Jesus doesn't let us stop at the physical act. In Matthew 5:27–28 he says: you have heard that it was said, you shall not commit adultery. But I tell you that anyone who looks at another person lustfully has already committed adultery in their heart.

Adultery doesn't start with an act. It starts somewhere far earlier: a thought, a look, a message, a click, a conversation, a secret. Something that seems small. Something that gets entertained for a moment. Something that takes root.

This applies equally to men and women, though the forms can differ. The pull toward pornography. The emotional attachment to someone who isn't a spouse. The longing for a fictional character who is everything a real person — with their own flaws and struggles and bad mornings — could never be. When the heart says I want that, I want to consume that, I want to take that, that's lust. And lust is adultery's beginning.

It is the opposite of love. Love asks: how can I honour this person, serve them, give myself for them? Lust asks: what can you give me? The seventh commandment is, at its root, a call to the posture of love, in marriage, in singleness, in every relationship.

Marriage Is a Good Gift. Not the Ultimate Gift.

Churches can get this wrong. Marriage is a good gift from God. But it is not the ultimate gift. Jesus is.

There is a quiet pressure in many church communities to treat marriage as the destination of Christian life. You grow up, you get married, have children, that's the goal. But some people will not get married. Some who marry will not have children. Does that mean their Christian life is a failure?

No. The ultimate goal of the Christian life is to belong to Jesus. That's it. Whether you're single, married, widowed, divorced, the measure of a life well lived is not relationship status. It's whether Jesus is first.

Singleness is not second class. Longing to be married and not being there yet is not a deficiency. Carrying the difficulty of a hard marriage is not a sign that something has gone fundamentally wrong with you. These are real and painful things, and acknowledging them honestly matters. But the answer to all of them is the same: cling to Jesus. He is the only one who is perfect, and he will not let you down.

Honour, Flee, Cling

Three practical postures emerge from this passage.

The first is to honour. Honour God's design for marriage. Honour the people around you: at the beach, on screens, in books, in your own home, as image bearers of God, not as objects of desire or comparison. See them as people Jesus loves. The seventh commandment isn't a ceiling on joy. It's an invitation to treat people with the dignity they were made for.

The second is to flee. Don't flirt with temptation. Don't entertain it. Don't click on it. Don't keep replying to the message. Don't let the thought take root. There is a reason Paul tells Timothy to flee youthful lusts, not to manage them carefully, but to run. Make practical changes. Be honest about where the pull is. Bring it into the light, because things that stay secret tend to grow.

And bring it to someone you trust. Church is not a showroom for perfect people. It is a room full of broken people, people who have been through things, who are going through things, who will go through things. The strongest Christians are not the ones who say they don't need help. They're the ones who find someone and say: I'm struggling, can we talk? That takes courage. And the wise response to that courage is never judgment, it's love, prayer, and walking alongside.

The third is to cling to Jesus. In every season, good marriage, hard marriage, singleness, longing, steadiness, struggle. If things are going well, cling to Jesus. If things are falling apart, cling to Jesus. He is the one who does not disappoint, the one who is always faithful even when we are not, the one who gave himself so that we could belong to God.

This commandment isn't ultimately negative. It's pointing toward something. Ephesians 5 shows us that the faithfulness of marriage is a picture of how Jesus relates to the church, and unlike us, he never fails his end of the covenant. Even our failures point us toward the one who never fails.

Honour people. Flee from temptation. Cling to Jesus. And when you stumble, and you will, because every person in this room is broken in some way — remember that there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. Come back. Ask for help. Start again…