Sermons, Saviors, and Stupid

I recognize how historic the election was last night. I celebrate Barack Obama's victory, not because my hope is in his political vision but because of the hope he represents. And while my celebration is jubilant, it is also measured for two reasons.

First, our hope as followers of Christ does not and cannot come in or through the kind of democratic political process that limits us to two choices. Nor can it come in solutions that leave us doing ethics for everyone and that glorify the christologically arbitrary boundaries of the nation-state. I heard a sermon Sunday that's about to pass the Thursday test. The Reverend Sonnye Dixon taught about greatness and turned upside-down this image we've been bombarded with lately that greatness is something achieved by and attributed to winners. Greatness in terms of political, social, or athletic capital in this country is an altogether different thing than the greatness Jesus teaches us about, to love God, love ourselves, and love our neighbors. We may say this and even profess to believe it, but do we really understand?

Second, though the presidential election may be historic for our country, there were other ballot measures that were not. In California, Proposition 8 is on the verge of being declared official. It's not by much, but that doesn't matter because winning and losing doesn't recognize middle ground, at least not when it comes to official public policy. On this one, let's not talk about Jesus, because to talk about Jesus would be a whole different conversation that I've written about elsewhere. To talk about Jesus would be to call the church to account, especially - especially the "peace church" for the violence it has committed against people who are queer. Here instead let's talk about something more American, like freedom maybe.

They say, "All men are created equal." The founding fathers didn't mean women here and they didn't mean black folk either when they wrote this, but today we do and that's the beauty of a concept like freedom. It means different things in different historical moments. Today we mean all people are created equal and deserve equal rights, at least as they can be legislated. Except we don't mean everyone. We mean everyone except gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, intersex, and queer identifying people. These people are often unprotected by nondiscrimination policies; they are ostracized by their faith communities; they are rejected by their families; and they are denied the 1000-plus federal rights that accompany civil marriage. Some of us are created equal. Others of us... not so much.

Now on most days I'll respect those who believe differently and try to hear where they are speaking from. Most days I'd rather have dialogue than debate. But not today. Today I am angry. Today I think those who voted for Proposition 8 in California and Amendment 2 in Florida and Arizona's Proposition 102 and all the other marriage amendments that have passed across the country including in Tennessee (2006) and Kansas (2005), are oppressive, bigoted, unloving, and just plain stupid.

Notice the rhetoric that marks the so-called "pro-family" crusade from articles in media outlets today:

• "People believe in the institution of marriage," Frank Schubert, co-manager of the Yes on 8 campaign (California) said. "It's one institution that crosses ethnic divides, that crosses partisan divides. ... People have stood up because they care about marriage and they care a great deal."
• Jeff Flint: Early in the campaign "I think the voters were thinking, 'Well, if it makes them happy, why shouldn't we let gay couples get married.' And I think we made them realize that there are broader implications to society and particularly the children when you make that fundamental change that's at the core of how society is organized, which is marriage," he said.
• "This has been a moral battle," said Ellen Smedley, 34, a member of the Mormon Church and a mother of five who worked on the campaign. "We aren't trying to change anything that homosexual couples believe or want -- it doesn't change anything that they're allowed to do already. It's defining marriage. . . . Marriage is a man and a woman establishing a family unit."
• The Proposition 8 campaign also seized on the issue of education, arguing in a series of advertisements and mailers that children would be subjected to a pro-gay curriculum if the measure was not approved."Mom, guess what I learned in school today?" a little girl said in one spot. "I learned how a prince married a prince."As the girl's mother made a horrified face, a voice-over said: "Think it can't happen? It's already happened. . . . Teaching about gay marriage will happen unless we pass Proposition 8."
  

Regarding marriage, I will unapologetically question any claims that marriage as we understand it today is a building block for any society or is an institution that transcends its own continual reinvention. Ask your great grandparents. Read the Bible. Read a history book. The introduction to Stephanie Coontz's Marriage, A History would be an excellent start. As for a moral battle, what about that whole freedom thing? Isn't oppression immoral? Haven't we learned by now that separate but equal is never equal? And my goodness, how fear has polluted the discourse! It reminds me of people calling Barack Obama a Muslim. I don't give a damn if our president is Muslim or our children learn about all kinds of families. This is America.

Before I switch gears, look at this picture. This is the celebration of supporters of Proposition 8 as the returns came in. These people are celebrating the fact that marriage will be a heterosexuals-only institution. It's disgusting.

But the sobering reality is that it's not about this campaign in California or the similar amendments that have been passed in God knows how many states. All this anger I have is not something that can be subdued by policy initiatives, and you red faced men are not the masters of my fate. Salvation doesn't come through a campaign after all.

I heard another sermon just this morning in fact. The preacher talked about grass like in Isaiah 40:6-8. Though it flourishes during the summer, conquering yards and gardens, when fall comes it begins to wither and eventually dies. What seems vibrant and victorious in one moment in history, be it Jim Crow or heterosexual marriage amendments, will die. "We pick ourselves up and trudge on," Kate Kendell, executive director of the National Center for Lesbian Rights, said. "There has been enormous movement in favor of full equality in eight short years. That is the direction this is heading, and if it's not today or it's not tomorrow, it will be soon."

Now look at this picture. Here are Del Martin and Phyllis Lyon with San Francisco Mayor Gavin Newsom in the background. This is the first same-sex marriage in California after such marriages became legal in June 2008. At the time of their ceremony these lesbian activists and groundbreakers had been together fifty-five years.

There are other pictures to look at. Back in June the NY Times had an excellent piece on the whys and why nots of gay marriage. Believe it or not, not all queer people want to be married. Some find the institution to be heteronormative, sexist, and oppressive all by itself even without discriminatory legislation.

There are a few more things to share. An editorial in the NY Times early last month was written after Connecticut courts decided that civil unions did not provide the same thing marriage did and thus legalized marriage for same-sex couples: "Separate is not Equal."

And in 2004 for a brief stint, San Francisco legalized same-sex marriage. Over 4000 marriage licenses were issued in defiance of state law as the city/county appealed to the Equal Protection Clause. Those marriages were later invalidated by the courts and then gay marriage became legal again last spring also in the courts. I don't know the ins and outs of that process, but there is a song you should listen to. It's by Vienna Teng, and it's called "City Hall." In case you don't make it to the link, here are some words:

me and my baby on a february holiday

'cause we got the news

yeah, we got the news

500 miles and we're gonna make it all the way

we've got nothing to lose

we've got nothing to lose

it's been 10 years waiting

but it's better late than the never

we've been told before

we can't wait one minute more

oh, me and my baby driving down

to a hilly seaside town in the rainfall

oh, me and my baby stand in line

you've never seen a sight so fine

as the love that's gonna shine

at city hall

...

outside, they're handing out

donuts and pizza pies

for the folks in pairs in the folding chairs

my baby's lookin' so damned pretty

with those anxious eyes

rain-speckled hair

and my ring to wear

10 years waiting for this moment of fate

when we say the words and sign our names

if they take it away again someday

this beautiful thing won't change

I cry every time: "Ten years waiting for a moment of fate to hear the words and sign our names, and if they take it away again someday, this beautiful thing won't change..." I'm not sure how many people who voted yes yesterday or these last years have thought about what it's like to not be able to get married; or to wonder if you'll be frowned at because the neighbors know she's your partner too, not just your best friend; or to jump through hoops to combine financial assets; or to find an anniversary card without people on it because the local drugstore doesn't carry any that have a lesbian couple. What if it was you? What then?

We know what it's like, and we know again and again and again. Today we know in an acute way, because they took it away again, whether we live in California or not. I guess the good thing is that our kind of salvation is not theirs to take. A ballot measure will not change this beautiful thing. Beauty will bubble up again. This is not over.