Catholic Commentary
The Father (or Betrothed) and the Virgin: Marrying or Remaining
36But if any man thinks that he is behaving inappropriately toward his virgin, if she is past the flower of her age, and if need so requires, let him do what he desires. He doesn’t sin. Let them marry.37But he who stands steadfast in his heart, having no urgency, but has power over his own will, and has determined in his own heart to keep his own virgin, does well.38So then both he who gives his own virgin in marriage does well, and he who doesn’t give her in marriage does better.
Paul doesn't demote marriage—he elevates celibacy, teaching that both are genuinely good, but one reflects the undivided love that transforms a human heart into a living sign of eternity.
In these three verses, Paul concludes his nuanced teaching on virgins by affirming that marriage is good, but consecrated celibacy is better. The passage turns on a careful distinction between what is morally permissible and what is spiritually excellent, refusing to denigrate either vocation while insisting that undivided devotion to God carries a particular nobility. Both paths are gifts, but they are not equivalent gifts.
Verse 36 — "Let him do what he desires … let them marry"
The identity of the "man" in verse 36 is one of the most contested interpretive questions in this passage. Two readings compete: (1) a father or legal guardian deliberating about giving his daughter (or ward) in marriage — the dominant reading in early Church interpretation and reflected in the Douay-Rheims tradition; (2) a man in a spiritual betrothal (virgines subintroductae), a practice in some early communities whereby a man and woman lived together in consecrated celibacy. Most modern Catholic scholars, including those behind the NAB and the Jerusalem Bible, lean toward the father/guardian reading based on the verb "gives" in verse 38 (ἐκγαμίζων, ekgamizōn, literally "gives in marriage"), which implies a third party exercising authority over the woman.
Paul's concession is pastorally realistic: if the virgin is "past the flower of her age" — that is, at or beyond the culturally expected marriageable age — and if "need so requires" (which likely refers to strong erotic compulsion or social pressure that makes continued celibacy imprudent or harmful), then marriage is not only permitted but positively right. Paul is emphatic: "He does not sin." The double affirmation removes any Gnostic or proto-Encratite taint from the passage. Marriage is not a moral concession to weakness; it is a legitimate and holy good. The present imperative "let them marry" (γαμείτωσαν, gameitōsan) is direct and unhesitating.
Verse 37 — "He who stands steadfast … does well"
Against the backdrop of verse 36, Paul now sketches the interior portrait of the man who chooses to preserve his virgin's celibacy — and it is a portrait of integrated freedom, not repression. Four conditions are carefully stacked: (1) he "stands steadfast in his heart" — his resolution has interior solidity, not anxious rigidity; (2) he has "no urgency" — there is no pressing external compulsion, social or physical, bearing down on him; (3) he "has power over his own will" — he is enkratic, self-mastered, not suppressing desire through gritted teeth but genuinely possessing his own liberty; (4) he has "determined in his own heart" — the decision is personal, deliberate, and free, not imposed from outside. The Greek verb κέκρικεν (kekriken, perfect tense) indicates a settled judgment, not a provisional arrangement.
This verse is remarkable for how thoroughly Paul locates the virtue of continence within the interior life rather than merely in the external act. The man who chooses to keep his virgin in celibacy "does well" (καλῶς ποιεῖ, ) — the same adverb used in verse 38 for the man who permits marriage. "Well" is the moral floor here; "better" is the ceiling.
Catholic tradition finds in these three verses one of Scripture's most precise foundations for the theology of the consecratio virginum and, more broadly, for the Church's teaching that consecrated celibacy is objectively superior to marriage as a state of life — without this implying any denigration of marriage as a sacrament.
The Council of Trent (Session XXIV, Canon 10) cited precisely this passage — "he who does not give in marriage does better" — in defining against the Reformers that "virginity or celibacy is better and more blessed than the bond of matrimony." This is a dogmatic definition, not a pious opinion. Trent was not inventing a Catholic novelty; it was crystallizing what the Fathers had long read here. St. John Chrysostom (Homily 19 on 1 Corinthians) notes that Paul "does not dishonor marriage, but he crowns virginity … just as ten is greater than nine without nine being small." St. Augustine (De bono coniugali, 8.8) draws the same comparative structure: marriage is among the goods God has ordained; virginity is the more excellent good.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church (§1618–1620) grounds the superiority of virginity not in any deficiency in human sexuality but in its eschatological sign value: "Virginity for the sake of the kingdom of heaven is an unfolding of baptismal grace, a powerful sign of the supremacy of the bond with Christ and of the ardent expectation of his return" (CCC §1619). This is the dimension Paul points toward when he speaks of the man who "has power over his own will" — consecrated celibacy is a form of sovereignty over the self that anticipates the freedom of the resurrection (cf. Luke 20:35–36).
Pope St. John Paul II, in his Theology of the Body (audiences of March–April 1982), interprets this passage within his nuptial anthropology: both marriage and celibacy are responses to the spousal meaning of the human body, but celibacy makes that meaning eschatologically transparent in a way marriage, though real, cannot. The virgin's body becomes, in a unique way, a living sign of the Kingdom.
For contemporary Catholics, these verses cut against two opposite errors that quietly shape our culture. The first is the secular assumption that celibacy is merely repression — that a person who chooses not to marry must be psychologically stunted or afraid. Paul's portrait in verse 37 demolishes this: the person who embraces celibacy for the Kingdom is not one who lacks something but one who has something — interior freedom, resolved purpose, and self-possession that allows undivided love.
The second error is the Catholic subculture's sometimes exaggerated glorification of marriage and family life, which can inadvertently treat the vocation to consecrated life as a runner-up prize. Paul's careful insistence that "he who gives in marriage does well" ensures marriage is never disparaged, but his "does better" invites every Catholic to take the call to consecrated virginity seriously — whether in formal religious life, the ordo virginum, or the emerging lay forms of consecrated life.
Practically: parents should examine whether they are raising children to genuinely discern a possible call to consecrated celibacy, not merely to marriage. And every Catholic, married or not, might ask: am I cultivating the interior freedom Paul describes in verse 37 — the capacity to stand steadfast, without compulsion, in my own vocation?
Verse 38 — "Does well … does better"
The climactic comparison — καλῶς / κρεῖσσον (kalōs/kreisson, "well/better") — is the hermeneutical key to Paul's entire theology of the two states of life in chapter 7. This is not a utilitarian calculation; it is an eschatological judgment. The one who gives in marriage does a genuinely good thing (τὸ ἀγαθόν, the good). The one who does not give in marriage does something superior (τὸ κρεῖσσον). The comparative does not cancel the positive; it elevates one form of love above another without condemning the other.
Typologically, the virgin who is "kept" points forward to the eschatological Bride of Christ (Revelation 21:2), preserved spotless for the Lamb. The father/guardian who freely hands over his daughter to a husband prefigures God the Father who, in the fullness of time, gives the Church — His daughter — to His Son. The passage thus quietly resonates with the nuptial theology that runs as an undercurrent through all of Pauline thought.