Gay marriage and moral inconsistency

There’s been a huge amount today on the blogs, on Twitter and around the interwebs generally about the Church of England’s official submission to the Government’s consultation (their word, not mine) on same-sex marriage. Apparently it could be the end of the world as we know it.

It needs to be said that in this semi-rural town in Worcestershire, I haven’t heard a single flesh and blood person mention it all day. I suspect that, whatever vociferous proponents and opponents think, this is not a front-page issue for most people.

There are quite a few people who seem terribly indignant that they, as members of the Church of England, were not consulted on this response. However, while I’m sure there could have been greater transparency about the process of responding, the document  explicitly roots itself in the most recent agreed statement the Church of England has made on marriage, and one which virtually all clergy will have repeated several times already this year. It’s called the marriage service. It might need challenging, but it’s a democratically approved corporate view.

Personally, I think the question is much more open than the official response does. As I argued a while back, the key question is whether a committed loving relationship between people of the same sex is sufficiently like one between those of the opposite sex to be included within the institution of marriage. There are queer arguments against it as well as Christian ones. (As there are gay and Christian arguments for it.) Some, particularly those who are aware of the ways in which marriage has continued to change and grow as a social institution, will agree that it can and should now include gay couples. Others, particularly those who resist relativism and prioritise some kind of traditional ontology over cultural construction, will feel (at the very least) that it is a sufficiently different relationship to need a different kind of social institution.

Currently in the UK we have different institutions implying different types of equal relationship which give the same legal rights to those who have entered them. The existence of civil partnerships makes it harder, I think, to justify the arguments for gay marriage on the basis of equal rights. It is an argument, rather, about what sort of institution marriage is.

The fact is that procreative relationships regularly – perhaps normally – take place with little or no relationship to the institution of marriage. It is equally true that a very large proportion of marriages, including a great many conducted according to the rites and ceremonies of the Church of England, are “lifelong” as a romantic dream rather than a worked out and hard-headed commitment. The Church of England’s understanding of marriage has a fairly tenuous connection with a lot of actual marriages, or the ways people have and raise children.

A significant part of the pressure for including gay relationships within the institution of marriage is because in practice the institution has already been redefined as a romantic commitment between two individuals for as long it lasts, and wouldn’t it be nice if it was happily ever after. Indeed, the Church of England’s own Wedding Project has openly embraced a consumerist model of marriage. No longer are people signing up to a hallowed common institution in which each marriage is one and the same, but encouraged to request a personalised experience tailored to the uniqueness of their relationship.

Not all that many years ago, Michael Nazir-Ali called down a storm of opprobrium on his head (what’s new?) for calling couples who wanted marriage without children “self-indulgent”. But actually, he was at least being consistent, and, indeed uncomfortably but truly traditional, in his understanding of marriage.

It is genuinely a problem that there are a great many people who want to uphold “traditional marriage” (whatever exactly that is) when discussing same-sex marriage, but who don’t wish to “moralise” about the relationships of straight people. It is the inconsistency which gives rise to a lingering suspicion of “homophobia”.

Personally, I think there’s a serious conversation to be had. I just don’t see anyone – individual or organisation – really interested in doing anything other than getting their own way.

I do love a well-deployed subjunctive

This morning I was in a neighbouring parish. One of the hymns they had was “Lift high the cross”. At one church we sang from Mission Praise.

Lift high the Cross, the love of Christ proclaim
till all the world adores His sacred name.

At the other we sang from Common Praise:

Lift high the Cross, the love of Christ proclaim
till all the world adore his sacred name.

I may be a pedant, but it seems to me that’s a good use of a subjunctive. (Prayer is a good place for many of them: take the Our Father!) Universalism is a hope, a wish, a prayer. It’s not a certainty, is it?

Did Paul know the Gethsemane story?

It’s widely agreed that Paul very rarely quotes directly from the Jesus tradition, but this almost certainly leads to underestimating how much of it he knew. Here I want to suggest that Romans 8 provides some reason to think he knew something like the Gethsemane story narrated as part of Mark’s passion narrative.

Since Jeremias, at least, it has become commonplace to assert that Jesus regularly addressed God as “Abba”. There are problems with both claims for uniqueness (we know too little) and intimacy (it does not mean “Daddy”) associated with that word, especially in its more popular forms. However, it is clearly the case that the Jesus tradition as we have it remembers that word specifically as the anguished prayer of Gethsemane, and nowhere else.

In Gethsemane according to Mark (14:32-42), Jesus is shown praying in anguish and distress, and the “Abba” prayer is specifically related to seeking obedience. Something similar seems to underpin the theology articulated by the writer to the Hebrews:

In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to the one who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission. Although he was a Son, he learned obedience through what he suffered; and having been made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him (Heb 5:7-9)

in Romans 8, we find a similar range of themes being brought together.

  • For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adoption (14)
  • When we cry, “Abba! Father!”  it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, (15-16)
  • If, in fact, we suffer with Christ so that we may also be glorified with him. (17)
  • the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words. (26)

The themes of suffering with Christ, groaning wordless prayer, calling God “Abba”, and being obedient as a son to God, are all interwoven. It seems to me that points towards the possibility that Paul is drawing on the same Jesus tradition Mark narrates and which is also developed by the writer to the Hebrews

If so that would also, of course, suggest a widespread inclusion of the Gethsemane story in primitive Christian passion narratives.