Jesus said that he had come not to abolish the Law, but to fulfil it. When questioned about divorce, he declared that divorce was provided by Moses—the great law-giver and liberator of the people from slavery in Egypt—because of cardiosclerosis (the Greek is sklērokardian).
This is the very same condition displayed by the ruler of Egypt, who hardened his heart.
In other words, divorce is a provision given as the promise, and realised hope, of not being enslaved in a marriage to a partner whose heart has irreversibly hardened towards you.
Indeed, this is the principle underpinning the entire Law, to protect us from the hardening hearts of others, and to keep our own heart from hardening towards others.
To hold God, and those who bear God’s image—not idols, things objectified, but human beings of flesh and blood—with reverence, a child-like outlook of awe and wonder.
To embrace rest, enjoy freedom, refusing to be taken captive by the insatiable demands of the market, the spirit of the age, the voices in our head. To disconnect, in order to reconnect.
To treat others with respect, honouring their story, the struggles they have faced and overcome, the grace they have received; that we might see that same grace—something gifted to us, not earned by our effort or deserved by our privilege—at work in our own lives.
To refuse to cause hurt or harm, through unchecked fear or self-interest.
To receive our lives as gift, and rejoice in the good fortune of others.
These principles, especially when held in common with others, returned to again and again, will keep our hearts from hardening.
They are both medicine and exercise for the heart (our ability to make choices) and mind (our ability to train thoughts and feelings, which inform our choices) and strength (our ability to act on our choices) and soul (our whole, though often fractured, being).