There is, hidden or flaunted, a sword between the sexes till an

C. S. Lewis, a thinker whose words have guided countless souls, once declared: “There is, hidden or flaunted, a sword between the sexes till an entire marriage reconciles them.” In this image of sword and reconciliation, Lewis unveils the ancient struggle between man and woman, a struggle woven into the very fabric of humanity. The sword is not always raised in open battle; sometimes it lies hidden, sharp beneath the silence, but it is always there, a reminder of difference, of tension, of potential strife.

To speak of a sword between the sexes is to acknowledge that men and women, though drawn to one another, are also separated by their natures, their experiences, and the weight of history. Across the centuries, this difference has often erupted into domination, conflict, or mistrust. The ancients told stories of gods and mortals whose love was fierce but fraught with strife—Zeus and Hera, forever in rivalry, or Samson and Delilah, whose love ended in betrayal. Lewis points us to this timeless truth: until true reconciliation is forged, there remains division, sharp as steel, between the sexes.

But what reconciles? Lewis gives the answer: an entire marriage. Not a union of convenience, not a bond held only by law or fleeting passion, but a full, generous, and self-giving marriage. Such a union does not deny difference but embraces it, transforming conflict into complement, division into harmony. In marriage, man and woman lay down their swords, not by erasing who they are, but by learning to move together, to yield, to trust. Marriage becomes the forge in which the sword is not destroyed but reshaped into a bond.

History gives us living testimony to this vision. Consider Elizabeth Barrett Browning and Robert Browning, two poets whose love defied the opposition of her family and the frailty of her health. Their union was not without struggle, yet in their letters and in their poetry, we see the reconciliation Lewis describes. Each sharpened the other’s genius, each gave the other strength, until their differences became the very source of their harmony. In them, the sword was not hidden nor flaunted—it was overcome through the fullness of their bond.

The meaning of Lewis’s words is therefore both warning and hope. The warning: do not be naïve about the differences between man and woman, for the sword is real and must be reckoned with. The hope: reconciliation is possible, but only through the deep labor of love that marriage requires. This reconciliation does not come in a day, nor through mere affection, but through the slow work of patience, forgiveness, sacrifice, and devotion. Only then is the sword set aside, and true union achieved.

The lesson for us is this: do not enter into marriage lightly, thinking that passion alone will reconcile differences. Recognize the sword. See it clearly. Know that man and woman approach life from different sides, shaped by body, soul, and history. But also know that love, when lived fully and faithfully, can heal the divide. An entire marriage—not half a union, not one-sided devotion, but a shared covenant—has the power to make two into one without destroying either.

Therefore, let those who marry take this teaching to heart. Expect struggle, but do not fear it. Let differences sharpen you, but not destroy you. Lay down the sword daily, choosing trust over suspicion, forgiveness over pride, and unity over rivalry. In this way, you will not only reconcile the ancient tension between the sexes, but you will also build a union strong enough to endure time, trial, and even death.

Thus, C. S. Lewis’s words remain a lantern for all who seek love. They remind us that between man and woman lies both danger and destiny. The sword between the sexes can divide—but in the covenant of an entire marriage, it can be transformed into harmony, and what was once division becomes the deepest reconciliation of all.