What are
your thoughts on same-sex marriage?
The question
caught me off-guard. It’s a question I’ve done a pretty good job of avoiding,
honestly, over the last number of years. I remember engaging in conversation
only once on this subject, years ago, with a friend to whom the question was
personal. I stumbled my way through some thoughts that I’m sure left her
feeling confused and me feeling crumby. True to form, in an effort to avoid a
debate I did the most non-confrontational thing I could think of, answer
without really answering. Excellent, I know. Confession: I struggle with
anxiety. I try to avoid disputes not just because it’s uncomfortable to
disagree with someone, but because my stomach gets all in knots and I get
diarrhea. I avoid confrontation so I don’t get physically ill. Gross, but true.
I stared at
the computer screen for a couple minutes, started to type an answer, erased it,
tried again, deleted it again and then… four words.
[SPOILER
ALERT] “I’m not for it.”
Shocking,
right?
I recognize
that mine isn’t a popular opinion to go public about, especially not in my own
family – a large group of intelligent individuals who are much better debaters
than I am, often smarter and faster on their toes with a passionate answer. I’m
more of a sit by the computer and map-all my thoughts out kind of person. I’m
seriously not interested in a debate, to gain cheerleaders or raise the ire of
an angry mob.
So why this
post?
I’ve been
thinking deeply the last few days about my hesitation to engage in this
conversation over the years and think I’ve landed on an honest conclusion. I’m
posting this because I’m uncomfortable with the assumptions people may have
about me because of some of the titles that describe me: Christian, Pastor’s
wife, Conservative, Evangelical, Pentecostal etc… (sometimes read as: Old
fashioned, brain-washed, closed-minded, intolerant, hateful, homophobic etc..) Thinking
that people who have known me for years may think these things of me because of
my faith is very upsetting. I’m hoping that sharing these thoughts may help us to
view each other with a little more compassion and grace, whatever your stance may
be.
Anytime the
subject of same-sex marriage arises, it seems as though we are all quick to
shove each other into one of two camps. One is seen as accepting, loving, and
tolerant, and the other as hateful and homophobic. Therefore if you want to be
seen as a kind and loving person, you can really only have only one option. I’m
less concerned with the popularity of my stance than I am with being forced to
stand in one of these two camps.
Is it
possible to step away from these battle-lines? Are kindness, love, respect and
compassion possible even in the face of such an important disagreement?
ABSOLUTELY.
I’d like to
introduce you to some beautiful individuals I’ve had the joy of sharing life
with over the years.
Meet Martha*, a friend from my Dawson City YT
days; a proud lesbian and a talented singer songwriter taking some much-needed
time away from her uber-conservative Christian parents. I consider it an
immense privilege that I was able to share living accommodations, employer, and
friendship with her that summer. When she first discovered that four of her new
housemates were Christians, she left the house upset, and didn’t return for three
days. When she finally appeared she courageously set aside her preconceived
notions about what being a Christian meant, and decided to give us a chance.
I’m so thankful she did. We had an intense and honest conversation. She shared
what she believed with us, thanked us for listening and told us she would be
happy to hear us out too. We told her that probably anything we had to say she
had heard before and we really just wanted to be her friends. She got choked up
and left the house again, but came back within a few hours this time. The rest
of the summer we hung out a lot, often the two of us sitting in the little communal
kitchen, guitars in hand, strumming and singing taking turns improvising song
lyrics about the cave man across the river. Her talent inspired me; her honesty
gutted me. We approached life with different worldviews and were able to
navigate a wonderful friendship in the midst of it. I’m a better person for
knowing her.
Meet Annie*, a former colleague of my
husband’s before his pastor-ing days: fun and artistic, a painter, a wonderful
momma to three and an unashamed lesbian. We weren’t shy about sharing about our
faith, she wasn’t shy about sharing her views on life, which we often did over
delicious food and chocolate. Our conversations touched on faith, food, parenting,
sexuality, her artistic pursuits, etc…she not been out of the country when
Sophie was due, we would have asked her to be our doula. Although we’ve lost
touch, I’m so thankful for those conversations and the chance we had to be
friends.
Meet Carol* an energetic, joyful schoolteacher
I met in our running group. We’d run together a few times a week and as we
huffed and puffed all over Guelph she shared with me about her struggle with
fertility treatments.
Meet Matthew*, a University friend of mine
who was debating ‘coming out’ publicly; he lived in my residence on the same
floor. We had a night class together so once a week he would wait to walk me to
class and always accompanied me after class in the dark so I’d feel safe. I’m
so thankful for his kindness.
Meet Jasmine* and Ashley*: two women from my
university days, who were dating when I first met them but who are married now.
One of my first hangouts with them was shortly after the unexpected death of
friend. They came with a pile of other young women, way too many for my small
basement apartment, so we could all grieve together. That night there were more
than 15 of us on our knees singing worship songs, crying out to Jesus for her
family and weeping together over the tragic loss of our friend. What a
beautiful and powerful moment. We were able to experience something so
important together, grieve together, and comfort each other despite our
world-view differences: a difficult but beautiful evening. I’m thankful for
that memory.
So, no, I’m not for gay marriage, but I’ve
found in my own life it has been possible for me to carve out deep meaningful
relationships with a foundation of mutual care and respect with a number of
beautiful individuals who happen to be homosexual in spite of a difference of
opinion.
So, I’m going to remain a comfortable
distance from either camp. I don’t care for a fight. I’ll probably never march
in a Pride parade, and I will DEFINITELY never hold up a sign in a turn-or-burn
campaign focused on homosexuality. But I promise to be a safe person to
disagree with. I promise to not let a difference of opinion determine whether
or not someone in my life is treated with kindness, friendship, love and
respect. Can this not be considered a beautiful place to stand as well?
* All names have been changed to respect the
privacy of the individuals mentioned.
