I have an issue with gay marriage. Weird, I know, given that I tend to vote Democrat pretty much solely because of the party’s stance on human rights issues, but it’s true. There’s something about gay marriage that just makes me.. pause.
I hadn’t really considered the issue much until recently, or until it really became relevant to me as an individual. As a good little Southern Dem, I’d just accepted the idea on theory – until my bar-none favorite Christian female vocalist and songwriter came out. Then... well, a lot of things changed.
First off, it was a shock that Jennifer Knapp was gay. It shouldn’t have been, as I tend to favor lesbian and female-empowerment rock/folk, and Jennifer Knapp’s preferences don’t really color my perspective of her music or her ability to be starkly, staggeringly honest. She… just likes girls. Ok, and… so?
Except that when she came out, almost always following was the statement that she had been with a partner for 7 or 8 years. That bothered me; not so much for the statement itself, but for my reaction to it. I immediately thought, ‘well, good for her… and hell, that’s longer than I’ve been with anyone myself, so.. wow. Go Jen and gf.’ But then I really started thinking about what I had just thought, accepted, and more importantly – not questioned.
I accepted that she’s gay because she’s with someone, and has been for a few years. I accepted that she is a mature gay woman, and worthy of consideration – not for her art, not for her musical skill, but because she had maintained a relationship with her partner for longer than I had been able to maintain any that I’d had with any of my lovers. Because she made a decision, she’d stuck with it, and managed to keep her partner even while losing her faith, rediscovering it, and moving back towards it – then she gained merit in my head. She should, according to this thought, be able to continue that relationship, be out and proud, even get married. She’s earned the right.
Therein lies the rub.
Since when is getting married a right? I thought it was supposed to be a gift, a testament to a relationship gone good. It’s supposed to be a physical manifestation of a spiritual and emotional connection. It’s not supposed to be a time for politics or agendas. It’s not a right; it’s a celebration.
Now, I can already hear the sharp intake of breath from those about to lambast me for those situations where gay partners are good, decent, solid parents to children not of their blood. And I also acknowledge that it is not right to deny partners visitation rights, or the rights to stuff after a partner has died just because they are of the same sex. Please, do. Just exhale.
I’ll go on the record as saying I am firmly pro-human rights – in almost every way, on every day, just because it’s the right way to treat people. My romantic heart sighs and flutters at the idea of a wedding – any wedding – where the couple is madly in love and committed and is just all stars-in-the-eyes happy to be near one another.
So… what’s the issue with gay marriage? Nothing – in and of itself. What I have a problem with is the cop-out that since straight people can’t seem to do the marriage thing well, and gay people seem to do everything so fabulously, that the logic follows: why shouldn’t gay people be able to marry?
My retort is, again: marriage isn’t a right. It’s a gift.
Why is the difference worth arguing? Because with gifts comes responsibility.
Marriage is, was, is supposed to be a weighty, responsibility; a lifetime commitment; something only grown-ups do because only grown-ups can handle it. It’s not supposed to be treated like something you do for a while, then cavalierly discard because something better/newer/different comes along. It’s a weighty word because it’s a weighty, adult matter.
The wedding is the party. The marriage is… where life lives. And I can say as a single woman that I am not married because I have not met the person I really want to spend (realistically) another 30-40 years with.
Jennifer Knapp may have. If she has, good for her. She should continue in that relationship, and I hope it blooms. She should even consider marrying that person, if she has the inclination to do so. But it should be a choice, devoid of politics and only lightly caressed by passion. Grown-ups marry grown-ups, and when they don’t, well, the rest of us get reality TV and causes for therapy while we try to grow up.
I have an issue with gay marriage, because any and every idea of marriage gives me pause. Marriage is more than a relationship that lasts years. It’s more than a couple pieces of pretty jewelry and a party. It’s giving soul and life, scars and weird food preferences, and everything dark and haunting to someone as imperfect and scarred as you are, and accepting all of that back from them with a reverence usually reserved for ice in Dallas and lunar eclipses. It’s a terrifying prospect.
And at the end of the day, I respect and pray for anyone that makes the decision to take that step. I imagine it would be only slightly less as daunting as coming out as the first out Christian lesbian musician.
I hadn’t really considered the issue much until recently, or until it really became relevant to me as an individual. As a good little Southern Dem, I’d just accepted the idea on theory – until my bar-none favorite Christian female vocalist and songwriter came out. Then... well, a lot of things changed.
First off, it was a shock that Jennifer Knapp was gay. It shouldn’t have been, as I tend to favor lesbian and female-empowerment rock/folk, and Jennifer Knapp’s preferences don’t really color my perspective of her music or her ability to be starkly, staggeringly honest. She… just likes girls. Ok, and… so?
Except that when she came out, almost always following was the statement that she had been with a partner for 7 or 8 years. That bothered me; not so much for the statement itself, but for my reaction to it. I immediately thought, ‘well, good for her… and hell, that’s longer than I’ve been with anyone myself, so.. wow. Go Jen and gf.’ But then I really started thinking about what I had just thought, accepted, and more importantly – not questioned.
I accepted that she’s gay because she’s with someone, and has been for a few years. I accepted that she is a mature gay woman, and worthy of consideration – not for her art, not for her musical skill, but because she had maintained a relationship with her partner for longer than I had been able to maintain any that I’d had with any of my lovers. Because she made a decision, she’d stuck with it, and managed to keep her partner even while losing her faith, rediscovering it, and moving back towards it – then she gained merit in my head. She should, according to this thought, be able to continue that relationship, be out and proud, even get married. She’s earned the right.
Therein lies the rub.
Since when is getting married a right? I thought it was supposed to be a gift, a testament to a relationship gone good. It’s supposed to be a physical manifestation of a spiritual and emotional connection. It’s not supposed to be a time for politics or agendas. It’s not a right; it’s a celebration.
Now, I can already hear the sharp intake of breath from those about to lambast me for those situations where gay partners are good, decent, solid parents to children not of their blood. And I also acknowledge that it is not right to deny partners visitation rights, or the rights to stuff after a partner has died just because they are of the same sex. Please, do. Just exhale.
I’ll go on the record as saying I am firmly pro-human rights – in almost every way, on every day, just because it’s the right way to treat people. My romantic heart sighs and flutters at the idea of a wedding – any wedding – where the couple is madly in love and committed and is just all stars-in-the-eyes happy to be near one another.
So… what’s the issue with gay marriage? Nothing – in and of itself. What I have a problem with is the cop-out that since straight people can’t seem to do the marriage thing well, and gay people seem to do everything so fabulously, that the logic follows: why shouldn’t gay people be able to marry?
My retort is, again: marriage isn’t a right. It’s a gift.
Why is the difference worth arguing? Because with gifts comes responsibility.
Marriage is, was, is supposed to be a weighty, responsibility; a lifetime commitment; something only grown-ups do because only grown-ups can handle it. It’s not supposed to be treated like something you do for a while, then cavalierly discard because something better/newer/different comes along. It’s a weighty word because it’s a weighty, adult matter.
The wedding is the party. The marriage is… where life lives. And I can say as a single woman that I am not married because I have not met the person I really want to spend (realistically) another 30-40 years with.
Jennifer Knapp may have. If she has, good for her. She should continue in that relationship, and I hope it blooms. She should even consider marrying that person, if she has the inclination to do so. But it should be a choice, devoid of politics and only lightly caressed by passion. Grown-ups marry grown-ups, and when they don’t, well, the rest of us get reality TV and causes for therapy while we try to grow up.
I have an issue with gay marriage, because any and every idea of marriage gives me pause. Marriage is more than a relationship that lasts years. It’s more than a couple pieces of pretty jewelry and a party. It’s giving soul and life, scars and weird food preferences, and everything dark and haunting to someone as imperfect and scarred as you are, and accepting all of that back from them with a reverence usually reserved for ice in Dallas and lunar eclipses. It’s a terrifying prospect.
And at the end of the day, I respect and pray for anyone that makes the decision to take that step. I imagine it would be only slightly less as daunting as coming out as the first out Christian lesbian musician.
