Tag Archives: marriage

On Pizza…and Refusal of Services

I’ll admit, I’ve been captivated by the spectacular firestorm that is Indiana this week. I’m endlessly amazed at how religious belief can be used to justify infringing on the rights of others, while at the same time crying bloody murder that any dissent is an infringement of that belief.

I think in analogies. That’s just the way my mind works – So I started wondering how this debate plays out in my own business, which just happens to be performing secular wedding ceremonies. Here’s what I came up with.

In my mind, a “business” should be able to select what it does, but not for whom it provides that service. If the pizza parlor in Indiana was asked (unlikely as it may be, I know, I know) to provide pizza for a “gay wedding” and they refused because the clients were two people of the same gender, that’s discrimination (wrong in my opinion). If they were asked to provide falafel, or shrimp fried rice, they can certainly refuse. If they were being asked to provide pizza for a wedding outside their delivery area, or on a day they aren’t open, pizza that’s kosher (if they don’t do that sort of thing), or if they have reached the capacity of pizza they can produce that week, then it’s fine to say, “Sorry, we can’t help you”.

In all of those cases, the refusal is tied to what they do and how they do it – not who the customer is. In business, it doesn’t matter who the person is. You serve them. Period.

Now as I’ve said, I operate a secular wedding celebrant business. Could I refuse my services to someone of faith? Absolutely not. It’s actually the case that the majority of the people I’ve married aren’t atheists. Most express that they have some supernatural belief, but for one reason or another (usually it’s discomfort with religious organizations, or the fact that their beliefs are different form their spouse or guests), they’ve decided not to put those beliefs on display. When I first meet with a couple, I let them know that I’m a secular celebrant (my certification is from the American Humanist Association, so I don’t have religious authority). I let them know that any ceremony I perform can’t have praying, holy texts or references to god.

Last year I was asked by a couple (in this case a man and a woman) to perform their ceremony. Very early on in the discussions, despite the thorough description of my business up front, the groom told me that they wanted a very short ceremony with “just a few bible verses and a blessing”. I explained to him that I wasn’t able to perform such a ceremony, and the couple found an alternate solution.

So why isn’t that discrimination?

I didn’t turn this couple away because they were religious believers. It turns out both were very devout conservative Christians but they didn’t want to attend the pre-wedding classes their church required in order for them to have a religious ceremony (which begs the question, “How do you choose which rules of your religion you will follow and which ones you’ll discard?” But that’s a discussion for another day). If the couple had been willing to have a secular service, which is what I provide, I’d have been pleased to marry them. My refusal was linked to what I do as a business, for anyone who would like to hire me.

Now, I might turn someone away because I’m unavailable for a particular date, or because they aren’t willing to pay my fee, or because they are looking for a wedding planner to coordinate their whole event (I don’t do that kind of thing) but the key here is that my decision is based on my business and what I do, and that I’ll do it for anyone, regardless of whatever groups to which they may belong.

And besides, I’m a Long Island girl. Pizza from Indiana? Probably just crummy round bread with crappy cheese and flavorless sauce anyway.

Love…and Marriage in the time of Facebook

Last week, some friends of mine got married out of state. I didn’t attend the wedding so I made a point of checking my Facebook feed throughout the day. Both of these friends work in public relations so I knew that photos of their big event were forthcoming. I was excited to see them.

And I wasn’t disappointed. Through the immediacy of social media, I was able to view the moment they became a married couple. I saw the venue, the cake . . . I got to share a little bit of joy from hundreds of miles away, just hours after it happened. When they updated their Facebook status to “married”, I enthusiastically clicked my “like” button to express my congratulations. That’s how we do things in the 21st century, right?

And there on the feed I saw a “life event” announcing their names, the date, and the occasion of their marriage, displayed under an icon of a bride and groom.

But my friends are not a bride and a groom. They’re two grooms, happily married in their home state – something few of us could’ve imagined five years ago. And this is perhaps a small thing – but I really object to that little icon defining marriage as a man and a woman. So much progress has been made – and I believe that social media has been a contributing catalyst. As a wedding celebrant, I’m really aware of wedding vendors who refer specifically to “brides and grooms”. I see so many wedding cards and ephemera that adhere to the “man and woman in a big white dress and veil” narrative – and LOTS of weddings don’t look like that at all.

So, I sent Facebook a message. I pointed out that in many states (37, plus Washington DC and some Missouri counties) and countries around the world (18, and portions of some others) marriage is defined more broadly than strictly male/female. I suggested they should consider a more inclusive icon. Isn’t Facebook more open-minded than, say, Fox News?

I received a polite reply informing me that Facebook receives so many messages, they can’t possibly respond to them all directly. The message assured me that they would consider my concern seriously.

Well I am stubborn and impatient, and it occurred to me that perhaps I could enlist the power of social media to call attention to this one small thing and make it different. So I’d like to ask my similarly minded friends (and friends of friends . . . This is social media after all) to do this:

• On your Facebook page, click the little triangle in the top right-hand corner of your screen. On the drop-down, click “report a problem”.

• In the next window, choose “general feedback”.

• In the next window, under “product” choose “timeline” and leave feedback suggesting that the icon should be changed.

Please encourage your friends far and wide to do the same. Inclusive language and images matter, and platforms like Facebook have the opportunity to make an important statement about what marriage looks like.

Why do married people get all the best stuff?

I read this article recently and it makes a really interesting point.  As a society, we’re not only discriminating against those who love someone of the same gender – we’re also denying a number of rights and benefits to those who choose not to marry, or who aren’t fortunate enough to find a “traditional” soul mate.  Should the legal and financial benefits that are attached to marriage be limited to those in a romantic relationship?  Or do we need to evaluate and legitimize all of the ways that human beings bond with one another for support, companionship and an enriched existence?  What do you think?

Why All Marriage Should Be Considered Unconstitutional and What It Should Be Replaced With.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Own Personal Jesus

I am an Atheist.  I don’t believe in any supernatural deity.  I don’t believe in a god, and I don’t believe in Jesus, the son-of-a-god-who-is-really-god-too-by-some-technicality-I’ve-never-quite-grasped.  But I really like the Idea of Jesus.  In the gloominess of my Catholic upbringing, Jesus was a bright light.  Some of my earliest storybooks feature his kind, serene face and deep soulful eyes.  I loved the story of his birth in the manger (Oh how many times my poor baby brother had to be the infant Jesus to my Virgin Mary as I staged impromptu Christmas pageants!)  The “Sermon on the Mount” with its implied socialism (don’t tell Sarah and Michelle!) struck a serious chord with me early on.  Whatever else, religion might have imprinted on me, Jesus was justice and Jesus was love.

I think of him in the same way you might regard other literary characters – Jiminy Cricket, sitting on your shoulder helping you tell right from wrong, or wise Dumbledore, or Glinda, from the Wizard of Oz, explaining that you’ve had the answers all along, but that you needed to find them within yourself.  His “real-ness” has never diminished for me, what he’s supposed to stand for.  Losing my faith hasn’t robbed me of a belief that “do unto others” and the rest of what’s on his CV are pretty good ideas to live by.

And Jesus was a bit of a rebel too; getting snippy with his mom (the “didn’t you know I’d be in my father’s house?” incident when he went missing as a little boy) and trashing the money lenders at the temple for their greed and poor location choices.  He had a whole crew of guys he rolled with, but he wasn’t a snob.  He hung out with the lepers and the poor and the prostitutes.  Whatever your deal was…he was cool with it.  If Jesus lived on Long Island in the 80’s, he would definitely have worn a leather jacket.

I have a theory that adolescent Catholic girls form an early attachment to Jesus as the image of perfect manhood.  What could be more attractive to a flat-chested, bookish, twelve-year-old but to know that this gentle, handsome man knows you, and loves you for who you are?  For years, the life-sized statue of a crucified Jesus that hung above the altar at our church was the closest thing I’d seen to a naked adult male.  Despite the gore and the ashen pallor, those muscled biceps…the washboard abs…the long hair…I blame my years-long penchant for long-haired heavy-metal bad-boys on my early religious indoctrination.

Earlier this week as the vote for Marriage Equality loomed ever closer, and the arguments, on the street, in the media, and on the internet got more heated, I found myself completely swept up. The live feed from the senate was constantly playing on my computer.  I manically pressed re-dial as I called Senators over and over.  And I actually broke the Facebook app on my iPhone after five days of constant update- checking, and posting of witty and weighty answers to that eternal question, “what’s on your mind?”

And the thing that kept coming into my head, ironically enough, as religion became the defense of choice for intolerance, was “What would Jesus do?”  I mean seriously – which side would he be taking here?  Jesus was all about love, right?  He of the washing of the feet.  He who saved the life of an adulteress by insisting that the one who is without sin, cast the first stone (are you listening Archbishop Timothy Dolan?!?).  He who stuck the ear back on the Roman centurian who had come to arrest him!  I began to feel that a contingent of religious people had stolen Jesus from me and were misrepresenting him!

MY Jesus, the Jesus who occupies my secular heart would have been as ecstatic as I was when the Senate voted in favor of Marriage Equality late Friday night.  My Jesus would have voted yes for love, for commitment, for families, for security, for justice.  He would have been carrying a rainbow flag and singing in the halls of the capital all last week.  He would be at every single gay wedding, making wine from water, just like he did at Cana in the bible – and smiling.

My husband and I drove to Albany late on Friday evening to meet up with an old friend who was in town demonstrating.  We arrived just as the senate vote was made official and caught the wave of frantic reporters and jubilant spectators as they exited the capital.  Amidst horns honking and people shouting, we three walked up the street, going nowhere in particular, taking in the glorious weight of what had just happened.  We were stopped on our trek by a disheveled, middle-aged man staggering, from what was clearly the consumption of a large quantity of alcohol.  “Let ‘em do what they want to do.”  He slurred emphatically.   “I’m TELLING you… I said, this is BULLSHIT.  It’s crap.  Good Luck.  I’m not gay but who gives a shit.  That’s YOUR business.  What business is it to say you can’t do that? I’m down with it.  I’m GLAD you guys won.  I’m ALL good with that.”

MY Jesus would have shaken his hand.

Definitions of Marriage

In my home state, New York, it looks as though Marriage Equality will be coming up for a vote very soon.  I’ve been becoming more and more vocal about it (part of my aspiration to become a celebrant came from a desire to have a public role from which to advocate for marriage rights).  For sure, my support for equal rights comes from knowing, personally, many committed couples who deserve, but don’t have, the same rights I do – and from an idealistic and overdeveloped sense of justice that just can’t tolerate anything unfair (I get really steamed if the person in front of me in the supermarket has fourteen items in the “twelve items or less” line).

As a married, heterosexual woman, I have nothing personal to gain by the passage of marriage equality right?  And yet, I’ve developed a real ‘hair-trigger’ when it comes to exclusionary rhetoric about marriage.  I can just feel the bile rise in my throat when I hear someone explaining, “What God intended…” or suggesting that if gay marriage is tolerated, farm animal marriage can’t be far behind.  If I’m honest, I need to admit that my support for ‘marriage for all’ doesn’t come entirely from a place of altruism.  You see, I am a married, heterosexual woman – and one who has chosen…deliberately…not to reproduce.

I can’t remember a time when I ever wanted to be a mother.  I don’t find babies cute.  I don’t think they smell good.  I don’t want to hold yours.  My womb does not ache when I see a bright-eyed toddler smile.  There has simply never been a time when being a parent seemed like an appealing role to me.  I have been a fabulous aunt.  My friends’ children love me.  I’ve worked with school age children and teenagers most of my career and have adored them (the more gnarly the teens the better!), but my biological clock has not made one single tick.  I’ve built a life and a lifestyle that would never have accommodated children.  When I was introduced to my husband (at the age of 35), a prerequisite of the meeting was his understanding three things: that I was committed to my work and that it took a significant amount of my time; that my politics were liberal and I wasn’t shy about them; and that I was not interested in meeting anyone who thought I might be the future mother of his children.

Nonetheless, when we married three years later, nearly a dozen acquaintances made breathless off-hand comments about how I could now finally have children (as if I couldn’t possibly have figured out how before I was married if I had wanted to!)  A few others shook their heads and lamented that it had taken “too long” for George and I to find one another and we’d missed my chance (for the record, my husband is as committed to non-parenthood as I am).

So when I hear someone mention the “marriage-as-one-man-and-one-woman-because-that’s-how-you–make- babies-argument” as a justification for denying the rights of others, I feel my own marriage being called into philosophical question.  Is MY marriage any less valid because it hasn’t produced, and never intended to produce offspring?  Do other marriages lose their authority when the partners move beyond their fertile years?  Does having ones tubes tied dissolve a union?  What about if one member of a couple proves infertile?  Should later-in-life couples be prevented from walking down the aisles because no children can result?

Making and raising children is certainly an element of some marriages – but I’d defy even the most ardent reproducers to argue that marriage exists solely for that purpose.  After all, it’s been clearly demonstrated that couples of the same gender do just fine raising kids.  They just can conceive them.  I’d be willing to suggest that very few successful unions are based on the ability to unite a sperm and egg cell successfully.  The “but-they-can’t-make-babies” justification is a slippery slope.  One ought to be careful when saying things like that – ‘cause they’re talking about MY marriage here.