SERMONS 

The Politics of Marriage

This morning I want to share some reflections on the politics of marriage. It seems to me we’re in a mess in our current understanding of what marriage means. I had an experience fourteen or fifteen years ago that really brought this home to me. I got a call from a lesbian couple who wanted to get married. They were in college—a little young, I thought, to be getting married. When I met with them I asked them what I often ask: “why get married? Why not just be in relationship the way you are right now?” Their innocent answer was touching. “We’re catholic. We don’t want to live in sin.” I hesitate to tell that story. I don’t want you to think that it was the young women who make it a funny story. It’s the civil and religious reality in which those women live that creates the humor.

I’m really frustrated by some politicians who are responding in fearful ways to the movement to include same-sex couples in the benefits of marriage. Some are even advocating a constitutional amendment defining marriage as a legal union between a man and a woman. Tennessee already has legislation that defines marriage in this way and declares that same-sex marriage is a violation of public policy. Whatever that means.

When I was in Georgia a reporter asked me suggestive questions about the same-sex marriages I was performing, wondering out loud about the consequences to me or the congregation. That’s when I found my language for what I understand a wedding to be. Any wedding I do is a spiritual celebration of a commitment to loving a partner. If we do that, we’re doing a wedding. And I call it a marriage. Sometimes, when I do a wedding for a couple they ask me to sign a marriage license. Some couples have that privilege. That I do as a courtesy. It’s easier than asking them to find someone else to “marry them” again.

But I must tell you, I’m reconsidering all this. I have colleagues, Unitarian Universalist ministers in other states, who refuse to sign marriage licenses as a protest against the discrimination present in marriage laws. I’ve talked to a number of people about this and the response I get is mixed. For the time being, last night for example at Brenna and Robert’s wedding, I’m still signing.

One fascinating thing about signing—on the license, along with all the things you would expect, there is a little box. At the top it says: “religious or civil ceremony.” Maybe there is some good reason the state needs that information. It escapes me. For me this little box just emphasizes the problem with our way of handling the institution of marriage in this country.

If it’s a religious ceremony, what role, then, should the state play in defining it? Some have distinguished between weddings and holy unions as a way of separating them into different categories. It’s true that there is a difference for the couple—only one, though, and it is mandated by the state. I don’t know of any other difference.

I’ve never liked “Holy Union” as a way to describe a commitment ceremony between people of the same sex. It’s a distinction I don’t understand and do not want to make. I do use the phrase, though, sometimes, to describe what is formed in such a ceremony—regardless of the gender of the partners.

Holy Union. That’s just it. It’s about a couple’s understanding of the spiritual nature of what they do when they make a commitment. It’s a Holy thing. In the realm of the religious. A matter for a religious leader and a religious congregation to define. Not a state or a federal government.

Having said all this about marriage I should hasten to add that I support any policy or legislation which extends the rights that heterosexual couples currently enjoy to homosexual couples. I love what one congregant said about all this. Speaking in favor of civil unions and the practical benefits they represent to gay and lesbian couples she said, “show me the money.” That’s not all she said—but you get the point.

The economic benefit for couples recognized by the state is only a portion of the privilege. I have watched the anguish that results when a lifelong partner is barred from a hospital room where his partner is dying. This happens. When I participated in death notification training with metro police chaplains I learned that policy excludes a same-sex partner as next of kin. The result of this policy is that such a partner would not be notified of her partner’s death until a suitable next of kin is located. (I will tell you that this is in contrast to the mission statement of the chaplain’s department at Metro Police which has a non-discrimination statement which includes sexual orientation.)

So I want to know why some people are so fearful of same-sex marriage. It’s not that I haven’t heard it. I know what people are saying. But I’m talking about the civil question that’s being asked—not the religious one. I understand why a clergyperson and a congregation might decide not to perform same-sex marriages. But what about the state? The question we really need to be asking is “What is marriage for?”

This is the title of a new Beacon Press book by E.J. Graff. Graff takes a detailed look at the history of marriage in the west in order to address the question. Six sections in the book explore various reasons people marry. Money, Sex, Babies, Kin, Order, and Heart. She writes:

What is marriage for? turns out to be a question about many things: about which families will be allies in trade and politics, which will rise and fall in the coming generation’s economic competition; about the right use of the body and the meaning of sex; about which tribes count as political and social equals; about which child starves and which inherits a prospering farm; about sexual equality, about farm life versus urban capitalism, about feudalism, theocracy, democracy, and much, much more. What is marriage for, in other words—like most serious political or social questions—is a question about what it means to be fully human.

There have always been challenges to the definitions of marriage that have prevailed at any given time. Graff points out that depending on how you define marriage, you leave vast numbers of people out of the equation. Some still define marriage, for example, as a “vehicle for legitimate procreation.” Within such a definition, contraception is not acceptable. And she goes on, “Define marriage as a bond between one man and one woman, and same-sex marriage is absurd. But, define marriage as a commitment to live up to the rigorous demands of love, to care for each other as best as you humanly can, then all these possibilities [that have been rejected at one time or another]—divorce, contraception, feminism, marriage between two women or two men—are necessary to respect the human spirit.”

What I like about that definition is how clearly it places the issue of marriage in the spiritual realm. It’s about the rigorous demands of love and the importance of caring for those we love. This is not language that our state uses—nor should it be. This is work that should be supported by religious community. Having made that distinction so definite, once such a commitment is made, I believe it is the state’s responsibility to support a couple in it. To provide benefits that support them in this decision which, for many, is all about finding full expression of their humanity. This support should be provided without prejudice.

And it will. The progress we’ve made in the last fifteen years is remarkable. The legislation to “defend marriage” that we’re seeing is evidence of the progress.

I’m proud to be a part of a congregation that has contributed to this progress toward supporting gay and lesbian couples as they make commitments. I’m proud whenever our witness in the world makes a little more space for love to thrive.

As I look around me at this world we live in this is the thing that I want to be part of. And as a Unitarian Universalist I am grateful to be supported and encouraged to commit my time and energy and money to this task. It takes many forms. For me, right now, I feel called to advocating in whatever way I can for the rights of gay and lesbian couples and to working for the abolition of the death penalty. (I will be preaching on that topic next month.)

What form does it take for you? How will you use your time and energy and money? Is there some corner of the world that is crying out for love that you can bring?

As we heard earlier in the service, “no love is ever lost in the universe.” May we be among those who preserve and protect love. Amen.