My wife and I do a lot of premarital counseling, and so we often ask couples the question, “how did you both meet?”

If they met at school, work, or church, they usually tell the story with pride. They remember the room, the conversation, the mutual friend, or the first moment one of them noticed the other.

But I’ve found that if they met on a dating app, there is often a pause.

Sometimes they make a joke. Sometimes they say they met online but avoid naming the app… until I ask. Only then do they admit it was Hinge, Coffee Meets Bagel, or one of the others. Most often though they try to leave the app out of the story altogether.

It’s as though they believe using a dating app was wrong, that real romance can’t start with a profile in an app. They should have reached for the same book, bumped into each other at a coffee shop, or noticed one another across a crowded church fellowship hall.

They seem to believe they committed a small romantic sin by failing to have a meet-cute.

I think that is a mistake.

To be sure, a dating app is a culturally complicated tool that can train us to see people badly, but it can also be a blessing if used truthfully, wisely, and faithfully.

The Myth of the Meet-Cute

The modern preoccupation with the meet-cute is not only frustrating, it’s unrealistic and ahistorical.

Most marriages throughout history did not begin when two people unexpectedly locked eyes across a room. They began through families, friends, communities, churches, matchmakers, travel, work, and other social structures.

Yet the stories we most often tell about romance, or learn from romantic comedies, songs, novels, wedding speeches, and even Christian testimonies often teach us that spontaneous chemistry is more authentic than deliberation. A charming beginning becomes evidence that a relationship was meant to be.

But the problem with the meet-cute is not merely that it’s historically unusual, it’s that it teaches us to judge the truth of a relationship by the aesthetic quality of its opening scene.

And so we assume a relationship that begins awkwardly, deliberately, or through assistance must be less romantic.

To be clear, my own marriage didn’t begin with a meet-cute.

I served alongside my now-wife, Rebecca, in ministry for several months before I ever considered asking her on a date. I enjoyed spending time with her, but I was actually pretty satisfied in my singleness.

Then people began saying, “You should ask Rebecca on a date.”

The idea was planted first by a close friend and then reinforced by my pastor.

Twelve years and two children later, I am grateful for the social and religious structures that helped move us down the road toward marriage.

No one forced us to marry. No one negotiated an arrangement between our families. But our relationship didn’t emerge from feelings of romance alone. Our community helped us recognize a possibility that we had not yet recognized for ourselves.

Throughout much of the world people divide marriages into “love marriages” and “arranged marriages,” as though one begins with affection while the other is merely operational. But arrangement and affection are not opposites.

We see this truth throughout Scripture…

Abraham sends his servant beyond the immediate household to seek a wife for Isaac (Genesis 24:1-67). Jacob travels to the land of his relatives, where he meets Rachel (Genesis 29:1-20). Ruth leaves her people and homeland, and within a new covenant community she meets Boaz (Ruth 1:16-17; 2:1-13; 4:9-10).

Even the apparent meet-cutes of Scripture happen within larger social, familial, and covenantal structures. The romance is real, but the assistance is real too.

God Has Not Promised You a Meet-Cute

And yet, I regularly hear from Christian singles that they fear joining a dating app would be interfering with God’s will.

“If God wanted me to be married,” they reason, “He would bring the right person into my life.” Thus, using an app would mean forcing God’s hand, acting outside his timing, or failing to trust him.

But God has not promised anyone a meet-cute.

Nor does he typically give clear directives about who a person should marry.

To be sure, God gives wisdom about the kind of person you should seek to marry, but God doesn’t typically give a name or location (1 Corinthians 7:39; 2 Corinthians 6:14; Proverbs 13:20).

Instead, God gives wisdom because wisdom allows us to make faithful choices (Proverbs 2:1-11; James 1:5).

In this way, when it comes to romance, the Bible is less like a theatrical script and more like an improvisational prompt. Christians are called to perform the kingdom according to the prompts of Scripture (Matthew 6:33; Colossians 3:17). We are not robots waiting for God to send us new code or an individualized directive for every decision. We are disciples called to walk wisely, prayerfully, and faithfully before him (Proverbs 3:5-6; Ephesians 5:15-17).

He has already given us the prompts we need (2 Peter 1:3; James 1:5).

A Christian does not need a supernatural directive before asking someone on a date, accepting an introduction, or creating a profile on a dating app.

A Christian simply needs to use the wisdom granted to them.

The Problem With Other-Halfism

The biggest threat to biblical wisdom in romance is often the wisdom of the world, “wisdom” like the false belief in a predetermined soulmate, or what we might call “other-halfism.”

It is an old and powerful story. In Plato’s Symposium, human beings are described as divided creatures searching for the missing half who will make them whole again. That vision still shapes the way many people think about love: somewhere out there is the one person who completes me, and the great task of life is to find them.

But that is not the biblical vision of marriage.

Jesus himself corrects a related assumption when the Sadducees ask about a woman who had been married to seven brothers. They assume that marriage must define her eternal identity, so they ask whose wife she will be in the resurrection. But Jesus says they misunderstand both the Scriptures and the power of God, because in the resurrection people “neither marry nor are given in marriage” (Matthew 22:23-33). In other words, marriage is real and good, but it’s not ultimate. No spouse is the missing half who makes a person whole forever.

Scripture does not teach that every person has one hidden romantic counterpart somewhere in the world whom they must identify. It gives us wisdom for choosing faithfully, and once that choice becomes a marriage covenant, it calls us to faithfulness within that covenant.

Other-halfism, on the other hand, creates anxiety because it makes every romantic choice feel spiritually dangerous.

What if this person is not the person?

What if going on this date causes me to miss God’s real plan?

What if I choose wrongly and spend the rest of my life outside God’s best?

The reality is, God does not drive an ambulance. He is not snapping his fingers in frustration because you agreed to an imperfect first date.

“The heart of man plans his way, but the LORD establishes his steps” (Proverbs 16:9).

God is not unnerved by human agency.

“Many are the plans in the mind of a man, but it is the purpose of the LORD that will stand” (Proverbs 19:21).

He remains sovereign even when our choices are limited, uncertain, or less than ideal. So we don’t need to wait for secret instructions. We ask God for wisdom (James 1:5), walk wisely (Ephesians 5:15-17), and trust that his purposes are not fragile (Isaiah 46:9-10).

That does not mean we should make foolish choices. Scripture gives us wisdom so we can distinguish faithfulness from foolishness.

But don’t let the fear of making an imperfect choice prevent you from making any choice.

You are free to go on the date.

You are also free to decline it.

Courage isn’t always saying yes. Sometimes prudence and courage require a clear no. A date isn’t a commitment to marriage, and declining a date is not a rejection of God’s providence.

Your Identity Is Not in Your Matches

But before Christians even get to the point of deciding whether to accept a date request on an app, we should ask a more basic question: Where does our identity come from?

Whereas a dating app can be a helpful tool, it can also become spiritually dangerous if we allow it to answer questions it was never designed to answer.

Am I desirable?

Am I worthy of love?

Is my life progressing at the right pace?

Does anyone want me?

The reality is that a match can feel like affirmation and a rejection can feel like a verdict. An offer for a first date can make someone feel visible, while a long period without matches can make that same person feel forgotten. But neither your matches nor your rejections should tell you who you are.

Your identity is not established by how many people swipe right, and it shouldn’t be destroyed when someone stops responding. Your identity is not secured by an invitation to a first date, and it should never be diminished when that date does not lead to another one.

For the Christian, identity is received in Christ (2 Corinthians 5:17; Ephesians 1:3-14; Colossians 3:1-4).

Before you create a profile, if you are in Christ, you are already known and loved before anyone on the app expresses interest (1 John 3:1; Romans 8:38-39). You are already united to Christ before anyone agrees to unite their life to yours (Galatians 2:20; Romans 6:5). Your singleness is not a condition of being “half-finished,” and if you choose to get married, it’s not the thing that makes you “whole” (Colossians 2:10; 1 Corinthians 7:32-35).

Rather, having your identity in Christ frees you to pursue marriage without asking marriage to save you, it frees you to endure romantic disappointment without disappointment becoming condemnation (Romans 8:1).

That doesn’t mean rejection does not hurt, it simply means disappointment isn’t a verdict. It means grieving honestly without surrendering to despair, resisting envy when someone else receives what we desire, and refusing to use another person as reassurance that we are attractive, valuable, or worthy of attention (Psalm 34:18; 1 Corinthians 13:4; 1 Peter 2:9-10).

In Christ, neither a date request nor a rejection becomes the final word about your worth (Romans 8:31-39).

Dating Apps Do More Than Introduce People

Back to the app question…

A dating app performs an ancient function. It introduces people who might not otherwise meet.

But it performs that function through a distinctly modern structure.

A friend knows you. A matchmaker may understand your character, history, and hopes. A church community can observe how you treat people over time (Proverbs 27:17; 1 Timothy 5:24-25).

An app presents a profile.

It gives us photographs, fragments of biography, preferences, jokes, hobbies, and categories. It then asks us to interpret a person quickly.

This structure is not neutral. It trains us.

Endless choice can make patience more difficult (Galatians 5:22-23; James 1:19). Swiping can form habits of rapid judgment (John 7:24; James 2:1-4). Carefully curated profiles can teach us to mistake self-presentation for selfhood (1 Samuel 16:7; Proverbs 20:6). Matching can feel like mutual consumer approval. The ease of disappearing can weaken honesty, courage, and responsibility (Ephesians 4:25; Matthew 5:37).

The technology can train us to believe that people are interchangeable and that a theoretically better option is always one swipe away (Genesis 1:27; Philippians 2:3-4).

Faithful use therefore requires more than good intentions.

It requires attention to the habits the app is forming in us (Proverbs 4:23; Romans 12:2; Hebrews 5:14).

Am I becoming more impatient?

Am I treating people as disposable?

Am I confusing an appealing profile with a whole human being?

Am I avoiding honest conversations because disappearing is easier?

Am I endlessly comparing real people to imagined alternatives?

Dating apps perform an old social function through a modern and morally complicated structure. Christians should understand that structure, resist its distortions, and use the tool without treating it as either inherently sinful or spiritually neutral (1 Corinthians 6:12; 1 Corinthians 10:23-24; 1 Thessalonians 5:21-22).

So the faithful question is not only, “Is this person a good potential spouse?” It is also, “What kind of person am I becoming as I use this tool?” Am I looking, choosing, speaking, rejecting, hoping, and waiting in ways that are truthful, prudent, courageous, just, self-controlled, and loving? A dating app may help me meet another person, but I must still use it in a way that honors God and loves my neighbor.

A Dating App Is Only a First Step

A dating app can introduce two people, but it cannot verify character, establish trust, or determine whether two people mean the same thing by the words they use (Proverbs 20:6; 1 Samuel 16:7).

People can misrepresent themselves online. They may conceal their motives, exaggerate their maturity, hide where they intend the relationship to go, or use familiar Christian language while meaning something very different by it (Proverbs 26:23-26; Matthew 7:15-20).

That does not mean Christians should avoid dating apps altogether. It does mean we should remember what an app can and cannot do. Its purpose is to make an introduction. Wisdom is still needed to discern character, clarify intentions, and build trust over time (Proverbs 4:23; Proverbs 13:20; James 1:5).

So be careful. Keep early dates in public places. Let trusted friends or family know where you are, whom you are meeting, and when you expect to check in. Pay attention to discomfort rather than baptizing recklessness as faith (Proverbs 22:3; Proverbs 27:12).

Trusting God does not require ignoring danger, suppressing concern, or extending trust before trust has been earned. Faith is not recklessness (Matthew 10:16; Proverbs 14:15).

Bring the Relationship Into Community

There is no universal timetable for introducing someone you met through an app to your friends, family, or church community.

Each relationship develops differently. There may be legitimate reasons to wait. Perhaps the relationship is still very new. Perhaps family dynamics are complicated. Perhaps privacy is wise for a season.

But if you trust this person, care about them, and still feel a strong desire to keep them separate from the people who know and love you, that hesitation deserves attention.

You may be trying to live two lives, one with this person and another with your community. Or you may already recognize things about the person that you are afraid your friends, family, or church will see.

Take the risk of bringing the relationship into community.

The people who know you may see the same qualities you have noticed and help you appreciate them more. They may also see what you have called a quirk and recognize it as a red flag.

That does not mean friends and family are always correct, or that they should make the decision for you. Their judgments may be unfair, controlling, or based on their own preferences.

But wisdom means at least considering the perspective of people who know your character, history, and vulnerabilities.

Romance blinds.

Seek perspective.

Let’s Get Over Ourselves

Ultimately, this is not just an argument about dating apps.

It is an argument about how we seek the good of one another in the church.

Let’s get over ourselves.

Too often, we don’t seek the flourishing of our brothers and sisters. We seek conformity to our own picture of what a faithful life should look like.

A faithful single person is not necessarily someone who has eliminated every desire for marriage. It is someone learning to receive their identity from Christ while practicing love, courage, chastity, patience, friendship, and service.

A faithful married person is not simply someone who obtained the relationship they wanted. It is someone learning to love covenantally, sacrifice faithfully, cultivate affection, practice forgiveness, and remain rooted in Christ rather than making a spouse carry the weight of being a savior.

A faithful person using a dating app is not someone who receives a steady stream of matches. It is someone learning to engage the process without allowing every response, silence, rejection, or invitation to become a verdict on their worth.

We should care about our single brothers and sisters who want to remain single.

We should not treat their singleness as a problem to solve, a phase to outgrow, or evidence that they have not yet met the right person.

If they desire singleness, let’s believe them and celebrate the good life they are building.

We should care about our married brothers and sisters.

Let’s help them strengthen their marriages, cultivate affection, practice forgiveness, and remain faithful to their covenants.

And we should care about those who desire marriage.

Let’s not tell them to suppress that desire, spiritualize their loneliness, or wait passively for God to drop a spouse into their lives.

Instead let’s pray for them, encourage them, introduce them to people, and help them discern wisely.

And if they choose to use a dating app, let’s support them in using it truthfully, prudently, courageously, safely, justly, faithfully, and without shame; recognizing that the place of introduction doesn’t determine the depth of the love that follows.

Celebrate the marriage.

Stop ranking the introduction.

Wherever the story begins, Christ has already said the truest thing about the people involved.

They are people made in the image of God, invited to find their identity in Christ, and called to see and treat one another with truth, prudence, courage, justice, holiness, and love.