When the Pharisees heard that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees,
they gathered together, and one of them,
a scholar of the law tested him by asking,
"Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?"
He said to him,
"You shall love the Lord, your God,
with all your heart,
with all your soul,
and with all your mind.
This is the greatest and the first commandment.
The second is like it:
You shall love your neighbor as yourself.
The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments."
Nearly two thousand years later, I can’t come up with a better progressive Catholic response to California’s Proposition 8 than these words. This Gospel reading was proclaimed in every Roman Catholic Church in the US this past Sunday.
You shall love your neighbor as yourself.
Am I not your neighbor?
A priest of my acquaintance often points out that Jesus really only told his followers to do two things: love God, and share God's love with one another. I've not yet been so bold as to ask his opinion about how one might vote on Prop 8, given that instruction. Frankly, I don't need to ask. I'm in Oregon, after all, where we do not face a ballot measure asking us to take away the civil rights of one specific group of people. He has not been asked by a Bishop to stand before his parishioners and advocate for a measure that flies in the face of the very core of Catholic social justice teaching. We're lucky that way - very lucky.
I've struggled mightily with what to write about Proposition 8, or whether to say anything at all. I keep returning to the same thought. If Catholics truly believe in what we profess, if we take the words that are attributed to Jesus seriously and strive to live our lives in accordance with those teachings, if we believe that our sacramental lives are intended to reflect the continuing presence of God working in the world, that we are charged simply to be Christ's love in the world...
... then the most defensible position with regard to Proposition 8 is to work without ceasing for its defeat.
Instead, of course, in the name of protecting the "sanctity of marriage", Catholics throughout California are hearing about the importance of supporting Prop 8. Some courageous clergy, at potentially great cost, are speaking out of faith and conscience. Many others have opted to remain silent on the matter. In the face of a publicized demand by some Bishops that Prop 8 be promoted during Sunday services, their decision to not read the statement speaks volumes to those in the pews.
And really, perhaps their silence is all about what matters - it's protecting the sanctity of marriage. It's a quirky phrase, one that's used by those who fear us all too often, but truly, it's important to Catholic identity, and vitally important as an underpinning of why Prop 8 must be defeated.
In the Catholic tradition, the priest does not marry a couple. Instead, each partner marries the other, with the priest as a witness. Catholic weddings generally do not take place in parks, hot air balloons, or on the beach, but instead are celebrated in church, usually with Eucharist included, and often open to all who might choose to attend. The couple commit to each other, but the community is there, just as we are for baptisms, funerals, ordinations, and Eucharist. The remaining two sacraments - reconciliation ("confession") and anointing of the sick - are almost always private, but even then, the priest is acting not as the person of Christ, but as the representative of the community itself. We are an intensely communal people. We are Catholic - universal. Or, in the words of James Joyce, "Here comes everybody!"
Except, it seems, for the queers. The Church has never been able to figure out quite what to do with us, other than to engage in more and more contorted explanations that defy logic or common sense about who we 'homosexuals' are, and what pastoral responses are appropriate if one might show up in your Church. "Please join us, but don't tell anyone you are here!" is the current party line. It makes sense to no one, of course. Nor does it conform with our generations-old sacramental system, which certainly does not differentiate among levels or types of 'sin' in defining who is worthy of grace, of belonging.
I'm under no illusion at all that the hierarchy will recognize the sacramental nature of same-sex relationships anytime soon. They're frankly too wrapped up in their fear and their own lack of understanding of sexuality (including their own) to be able to make that leap. Nonetheless, legal marriage is very much a social justice issue. Denying the 1138 rights that are granted to married couples by the federal government to couples who happen to be of the same gender is a social justice issue. The Church may take generations to recognize that same-sex marriage can be a sacrament, but it must stop - NOW - any assertion that denying legal rights on the basis of gender is somehow consistent with that commandment:Love your neighbor as yourself.
The Church could lead here - but it's not. Instead, it must get out of the way, and stop interfering with legal incidents between people. Or, should the Church persist in believing that it has an essential role in establishing and enforcing law, perhaps I may ask my priest to renew my driver's license, or issue new tags for my car.
I've lost track of the number of letters I've received from Catholic friends in California urging me to "Vote No on 8!" Would that I could take such a step. Changing my state of residence in order to vote on November 4 seemed a bit much, however. Instead, I've been donating, writing, and calling others who can vote, including some people who are profoundly conflicted and confused by Church directives that contradict their own conscience, that violate their own sense of justice.
Proposition 8 simply must not pass, and Catholic voters must vote their consciences - including when they do not conform with direction from the local hierarchy. As a Catholic, I find no arguments in favor of Proposition 8 consistent with the faith I was taught from childhood, the faith that informs my decisions and life now.
Although as an Oregonian Proposition 8 is theoretical, is also intensely personal. Two beloved friends were wed this July in California. Catholic, both of them. I could say the wedding was convenient, celebrated during the week that I was back home between two month-long stints in Mexico, but truth be told there was nothing "convenient" about it. The date was picked to make it most likely that Kid Pax and that I could be there. After all, weddings are communal for us. Many of the their family, friends, and colleagues hadn’t been notified of the event. Indeed, both were still in the process of coming out to their extended families - again, working through issues of religion, identity, and sexuality that our faith tradition has bestowed upon us. Neither had planned on finding the other. Neither could’ve contemplated in their wildest dreams that there would be a window of time – a very small one, perhaps – during which they could make this commitment.
And now, neither can comprehend why their Church is devoting such energy to attempting to prevent others from affirming their relationship in front of their families, friends, and God.
I don't understand it either.
What I do understand, with great clarity, is that on nearly all issues, the Catholic Church chooses to present itself as landing squarely on the side of love and compassion. When it opts to speak in favor of fear and divisiveness, as is the case with Proposition 8 and in many other matters involving gender and sexuality, the dissonance is deafening. The Catholic Church is arguably the largest social justice organization in the world, working tirelessly to alleviate poverty, bring justice and sanity to immigration discussions, and address the needs of those who are truly considered "the least among us". So when the Church then steps out and takes a stand against civil rights, when the Church interjects itself into a political initiative on the side of depriving one group of people of legal protections that are afforded others, its credibility on all social justice issues is badly damaged.
So it is that I find myself this election cycle spending more time and money working to defeat Prop 8 in California than I am on any other race, national or within Oregon - or that I've ever spent on any electoral decision at all. It's not because I'm in a neighboring state that could be affected by the decision - we're all diminished when the civil rights of anyone are denied. It's not because I'm queer - we're all diminished when the civil rights of anyone are denied.
I am opposed to Proposition 8 because I am Catholic. My Church hierarchy's defense of this odious attempt to take away civil rights from a group of people hurts so many more people than the relatively small numbers that would be directly affected should Proposition 8 pass. My Church puts itself directly in the business of asserting which neighbors are to be loved more than others, of who is deserving of justice and who shall be denied. It's not a defensible position, and to me it's a matter of faith and conscience to oppose it, whatever the cost.
I'll be in California on Election Day. I'm often there for work these days, but this trip is personal. I'll be with my friends whose wedding I witnessed, because the vote on November 4th is as relevant as what was celebrated on July 14. My friends worship elsewhere now, at the church whose pastor celebrated their marriage. Of course they are still Catholic and likely always will be, regardless of the name on the building in which they spend Sunday mornings. With its stance on Proposition 8, the Church itself diminishes its own catholicity. It's up to us now to be the "catholic" - "universal" ones here, and to be the voice of justice with our opposition to Proposition 8. None of our neighbors are to be excluded.