Same Sex Marriage and Cultural Wars: Disarmament Through Curiosity

"Non-Violence" is a sculpture by Carl Fredrik Reuterswärd outside the United Nations building in New York City.

Cultural wars are sticky, like a battle fought in quicksand. The end result nowadays seems to be that all combatants are pulled down from their lofty, ideological starting points to somewhere in the hateful muck. From where I work in my church office in Decatur, AL I cannot see the Morgan County Court House, but I know that no couple, same sex or otherwise, will receive a marriage license there until conflicting court issues are resolved. Perhaps for some this temporary halting of same sex marriage is a victory, elsewhere in the state where these marriages are taking place the other side claims victory. Civil unions between a couple of the same sex is the latest battle ground where those on opposing sides arm themselves to the teeth with weapons meant to prove their side right and even to seriously injure their opponents. Yet, I wonder how it is that we might not fight these battles any longer.

I could tell you about my belief in interpreting the story of our Salvation through the Incarnation, ministry, death, and Resurrection of Christ Jesus. I could tell you about my belief that the command that seems irrefutable from all the words Jesus spoke is to love God and love one’s neighbor. I could tell you about my hope that through Christ all of God’s Children no matter who they are, no matter what they have done, and no matter what they believe are in the infinite nearness of God through His Grace. And yet, if all I am doing through this is attempting to convert you to my side of the argument, if all I am doing is trying to win a debate, or if the only attempt I am making is to outwit you in a conversation, then I am slipping deeper and deeper into the mire.

What we need more than a court decision is an overhaul in how we have dialogue. It is no longer good, right, and joyful, nor is it particularly productive for us to have conversations, like we have had them in the recent past. In this old way, once I figured out you are pro-this or anti-that my entire purpose was to build a case to topple down whatever your side perpetuates. But, why? Not only is this useless, it actually appears to be eating away at the collective fabric that weaves us together. Never have we been this unhealthy, this on edge, and this combative towards one another. Maybe the problem is that we feel free to express ourselves. It could be that we are more aware of what others are saying. Perhaps it is the rise of news and social media that derives its popularity from controversy. Whatever the reason, I feel the need to work towards dismantling our systems of separation, but how?

When I served as a hospital chaplain for a summer during seminary training, I had a great supervisor. He started out as pastor, but became interested in serving as a trainer for hospital chaplains. He had a line that he used over and over again, like a patient stream slowly carving through rock layers to form a proverbial Grand Canyon. “And what was the line?” you ask. He said repeatedly, “I’m curious about that.” At first I thought he was like a child’s toy that repeats a catchphrase every time its string is pulled; however, I found that this question drove me throughout the summer to slowly disarm my defense mechanisms. By the end of the summer I too was curious.

“Curiosity killed the cat,” might be the most ridiculously mistranslated saying in the English language. Ben Jonson the British playwright originally wrote, “Care will kill a cat.” Care was translated as worry or sorrow, and somehow we switched that with curiosity. Curiosity, some will say, is dangerous. Yet, I believe it is our best hope of getting to know the other in a way that transforms us. When we live our lives as separatists or loners who are most concerned with accumulating status, wealth, or power at the expense of others we have little time or energy to wonder about someone else. And yet, if we, regardless of religion call ourselves children of God, then part of our collective hope stems from a yearning that we all may be one with God. If we share this hope to be one with God, then when we are one in God we will also be one with each other.

A classic joke about the afterlife involves St. Peter taking some new residents of Heaven through the Pearly Gates to give them a tour. As the group walks passed the Pentecostals they are vibrantly worshipping God, the Methodists are singing hymns of the Wesley brothers, and the Episcopalians are worshipping using the prayer book (and maybe imbibing an adult beverage). Then, St. Peter tells the group to be silent as they walk passed the next area. He says, “This is the room where the [Baptists/the Church of Christ members/the fill in the blank] are and they think they are the only ones up here.” Why is it that we have to believe that we are the only ones that God loves? Why is it that we fight against one another to be right? How come we cannot simply be curious about how each other sees God and what God sees in others?

The best way that we can move beyond the next cultural war is through a disarmament of our defensive behavior especially regarding our sense of knowing who is right and who is wrong. Become curious about those who are different. Wonder how others see God and the world. Make peace with not only not being right, but also not engaging in competitive conversation in the first place. Instead I challenge you to find at least one thing in common with anyone you meet. For it is when we see the connection between ourselves and others that our walls come down, and this opening is where we can truly begin to love our neighbors as ourselves.