Why wait for marriage?

The same-sex marriage debate is, in part, about the separation of church and state. Should the government discriminate against some citizens simply because it offends others’ religious sensibilities? Or, formulated another way, how much should private morality be entwined with public policy?

This is well illustrated, of course, by folks like the town clerk in New York who resigned rather than perform gay marriages, which offend her religious convictions. (Whatever happened to “render unto Caesar…?”)

However, there’s another aspect to the private morality/public policy question that puzzles me. The media talks about the legalization of same-sex marriage as heralding a surge in gay weddings. Marriage licenses and civil marriages, I understand. But weddings? Are people really not getting married if the state doesn’t sanction it? Are we really acquiescing to second-class status? Has the wedding industry really been ignoring this market segment?

I’m not arguing civil marriage does not matter; of course it does. It matters a lot. That’s precisely why celebrating your union before your family and community, in defiance of a government that tries to render it invisible, is a radical, transformative, and liberating act.

“Tea!”

Imagine that you’re sitting at home, having a leisurely cup of tea with your friends and catching up on local gossip. All of a sudden, two foreigners politely barge into your living room, sit down, and awkwardly demand some tea using a series of weird-sounding words and funny gestures. After you’ve served them some tea, and thrown in some biscuits for good measure, they seem to want to pay you. You refuse payment, and they politely leave bowing and thanking you profusely.

This isn’t exactly what happened to us, but it felt that way when we stopped at one of the many tea houses that dot Inari, a mountain dedicated to the eponymous Shinto deity of fertility and rice. The mountain is laced with paths marked by distinctive, bright orange torii, donated by the faithful. We quickly wandered off the main path and into some of the smaller alcoves and hidden shrines, and it is there, in the sleepy tea-stop that was just getting started for the day, that we had the first of several cups of tea that day on the mountain.

The numerous shrines and temples are not limited to the tourist sites like this particular mountain; they actually pervade Kyoto. It is not uncommon to see personal shrines in front of some houses, bigger shrines or temples occupying full house lots, or even historic shrines, plaques and all, wedged between glitzy modern department stores in a very lit and lively downtown shopping area. These places are not just for show: shoppers, tourists, and pilgrims will stop, set down their bags, and pay their respects to the deities by clapping, bowing, ringing a bell, and praying.

It is quite fascinating to watch the devotion of the faithful, to regard the opulence and beauty of these religiously inspired structures and statues, and to consider the time and resources that are used by religious observances. Not that the West can’t hold its own here, mind you, but this is a good reminder of how universal the religious drive is.

An inside look at Islam

While spending a few weeks in the Middle East, I read the book Islam: Religion, History, and Civilization by Seyyed Hossein Nasr. I found the book to be very informative, as it outlines the main doctrinal beliefs and history of Islam from a traditional Muslim perspective, denouncing both fundamentalism and Western modernity. The overarching message is that Islam is a complete way of life, that the relation of man to Allah, at once transcendent and immanent, is one of “ontological indebtedness.”

Nasr seems to emphasize how all Muslims have this basic set of beliefs, and though some pervert them by being extremists (a la Taliban) and some forget them by being assimilated into the Western world, for the most part Muslims form one big brotherhood. While I am not an expert on Islam, what I’ve read from other sources makes this claim sound rather Pollyanish.

Still, this was an interesting (and even inspiring) read and I recommend it to anyone looking for an insider’s perspective into Islam.

Looking back on a marriage

Music I heard with you was more than music / And bread I broke with you was more than bread

Thus did Hugh Franklin propose to Madeleine L’Engle, beginning the union chronicled in Two-Part Invention: The Story of a Marriage, book four of the The Crosswick Journal series of L’Engle’s autobiographical writings. This is a sweet book that reminisces about her early life and marriage and becomes more and more preoccupied with Franklin’s illness in the author’s present. In fact, the second part of the book more than anything journals L’Engle’s attempt to cope with his deteriorating condition, trying to balance hope, acceptance, and normalcy.

What surprised me about this book is how religious L’Engle was. Not terribly so, mind you, but in this book she does talk about her belief in Jesus and the solace and inspiration that she finds in religion. I suppose it’s not unexpected, since the only books of her that I read were the Time Trilogy, which have an underlying spiritual theme. I always interpreted that theme to be generically (rather than theistically) about good and evil, love and hate, though in retrospect I was taking it metaphorically where possible (the need to Deepen) and suspending my disbelief elsewhere (“he calls them all by name”).

This leads me to my meta-reaction: little atheist me chuckles on reflecting that some of my favorite books growing up are (yes, present tense) ones that deal with Big Themes by authors who turn out to be decidedly theist. L’Engle is one, of course; C. S. Lewis pops to mind as another. I suppose the main attraction lies with the fantasy and science-fiction elements, not to mention the archetypal fight between Good and Evil. It also helps that these are works of fiction, which live in a separate universe where I can suspend my disbelief. For though I know that the physical world that we share is mathematically and scientifically fascinating but unsentient, I can also inhabit inner worlds where magic and Epic Struggles do exist. And really, who wants to live without magic?

A New Hope

Obama


The inauguration ceremony was very moving. I thought Obama’s speech was inspiring, and his poise and coherence quite refreshing.

I do wish that they would stop having prayers and religious benedictions in public ceremonies. I found Warren’s invocation of Jesus particularly obnoxious. Lowery’s benediction, however, was at least witty and spunky.

On a positive note, President Obama (it feels so good typing that!) gave a nod to non-believers as well as people of faith.

Most importantly, though, the era of W is finally over. It’s time to clean up the messes left behind and strengthen our democracy and ideals once again.

Hallelujah! Don’t let us down, Mr. President.