A marriage story

There's been a lot of commotion on Facebook these days about the upcoming election - especially with polarizing topics like the marriage amendment on the ballot.  I even had a friend of mine post today that she had just deleted all of her friends who had "liked" Mitt Romney's page! I can't say that I haven't considered hiding all of my friends who post so passionately about he or Pres. Obama, but I've got another direction I'd like to go.

Since most days I don't have the time or energy to battle over Facebook, I choose to tell you all about a couple friends of mine who decided to break the rules and get married instead. 

After keeping their love largely a secret (for fear of persecution and judgment in their small town) they chose to make the biggest commitment by getting married.  Even the few friends and family who knew about their relationship tried to talk them out of it, because of the ramifications it would have.  You see, their home state was one of those old rarities that not only didn't recognize their union, but maintained that it was a criminal act.

One day they went on a road trip to a different state and came back with rings and had their proudest achievement under their arm to hang on their bedroom wall - a legal certificate of marriage.  At no time did they triumphantly stick their relationship in people's faces who disapproved, nor did they judge those who used the Bible to tell them that they were an abomination.  In their eyes they were meant to be together and didn't see why a law or others opinions had anything to do with it.

Fast forward seven months to 2am at their home.  A brief knock on the front door was quickly followed by a group of police officers entering their room.  Acting on an anonymous tip, they had come to arrest them.  Knowing this day might come, they pointed to their marriage certificate and were then led out like thieves in handcuffs - not even allowed to share the same squad car to jail.  Their day in court eventually found them guilty, but the judge allowed them to waive their sentence if they moved out of the state.

After leaving their home and families behind, they moved to Washington D.C., the only place where they felt they could fight their fight and be heard by their home state.  Six years after their arrest, a  petition was heard by the court of appeals, but to their dismay the ruling was upheld.  A year later, the Presbyterian Church heard about their struggles and publicly stated that the church found "no theological grounds for condemning or prohibiting marriage between consenting adults..." This set about a chain of conversations that eventually resulted in their case going to the Supreme Court, who a year later said that "Marriage is one of the "basic civil rights of man," fundamental to our very existence and survival...."

Oh wait, you didn't hear about this case?  It's probably because Mildred and Richard Loving had this monumental court case decided against the state of Virginia in 1966.  You see, Mildred was of American Indian and African heritage and her husband Richard was white, which was against the law there.  There were many God-fearing people at the time who believed what they did was against their faith and would lead to Armageddon and a host of problems, but the courts of our great country eventually saw those reasons as not nearly as important as a basic citizen's rights.

Many see this upcoming vote as one that must include one's personal comfort level or religious convictions.  I argue that to maintain the very freedoms that were fought and died over, we must give those very freedoms to all - including those who you may disagree with morally or otherwise.  If not for constitutional rights (which we all should hold to) for the common courtesy of allowing two consenting American adults to do as they choose.  There does not have to be a gay agenda. Just a human one.

Can I beg the question?

 
I was challenged last night to write an hour a day and I am going to see what comes of that here.  Thanks for hanging in there with me as I continue to sift through life, my questions, and each day's blank page.


I have never been afraid of controversy.  In the heyday of my youth and immaturity I partnered  this with my sarcasm and antagonistic side just to feel smart. There was something deeply powerful about being able to corner others in conversation and take jabs that eventually could lead to me feeling like the funniest (if not also the most intelligent) person in the room.  Truth be told, a lot of this came from my early years in church...where within the safe circle of "Christian Minnesota Nice" you can say just about anything you want as long as you do it with a smile and a little humor.  My friends in the South have a similar out when they follow up with "Bless his heart". 

A poignant moment happened to me in a Sunday School class that quickly turned from Q&A to an open dig session on why every other church/youth group in town wasn't up to our level.  It wasn't until my family quit attending that I began to realize how elitist and weird much of what I thought being a "good person of faith" entailed.  Did my faith have to be more than what I felt it needed to be?  Who writes the rules?  My course has been forever changed by these thoughts and instead of being frustrated I now am thankful for the wandering feelings and general lack of direction.  I have learned that the trap game in life (and certainly religion) is believing that you not only know best, but your "right" is righter than all others.

Instead of debating to win, I have begun to choose my moments when I want to beg the question.  Sometimes I can't help but stir the pot and I do so knowingly, but other times I am awestruck by the emotion that comes of a seemingly simple thought or question.  I can say with 100% certainty that my words do not come from a lack of faith...nor out of doubt...or even from a bored need to rile things up.  Frankly, I am afraid of those who do not question anything anymore. There is a  false sense of security that comes from being closed off to unspoken conversations, believing in a misguided elitism based on their interpretation of faith.  We all have witnessed the pendulum swing back and forth during this political season, but where those debates can reach a stalemate, religion has an unfair trump card that can change any conversation.

It honestly pains me to even type it out, so I will just give you an example about what I am referring to. Person A says something about their faith that Person B disagrees with . Person A raises their questions to Person B's methodology.  Person B can't come to grips with the differences and the doubt ("I thought this person thought the same as I did"), so in an attempt to protect themselves, they play "the card" in their mind. A subtle switch quickly takes place. Person A must no longer be one of "us", but "them" and can be subjugated to the lost pile with all the crazies, mystics, and left socks.  In environments such as these by raising questions, Person A somehow broke an unspoken rule of faith.  To question is to doubt. To doubt is to not truly believe. This "weakness" cannot be encouraged.

I say all these things to show you where my heart and head are going. Not into a lost world of faithless chasing, but with love...with hopeful certainty.  By embracing questions (and those who have been placed outside of society's various circles), I know that I am getting ever closer to the heart of who I must become.