Gay Marriage and the Christ/Church Analogy

Disclaimer: if you are a complementarian, you will not agree with my argument, so it's no use reading this or debating. It only really works if you believe that men and women are equal and do not have assigned life roles based on gender.

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Perhaps you have heard (or even used yourself) the argument against gay marriage that goes something like this:

Marriage, between a man and a woman, is a symbol/sign/sacrament that reflects the relationship between God/Christ and the church, and gay marriage does not do this.

I'm going to make a few assumptions about this argument which will inform the rest of my post:

1. In the analogy, the man is God/Christ and the woman is the church (a la Ephesians 5)
2. A same-sex relationship cannot carry the analogy
3. The analogy is a necessary part of the marriage relationship

So the analogy necessitates the two pieces--God and church.There is a significant qualitative difference between these two entities. Most people would probably contend that God is transcendent, or holy, or perfect, while the church, which is made of humans, is not. Interesting that the man, then, gets to be "God" in the analogy, while the woman gets to be the church which is dependent upon God. This analogy is clear that God > humanity, and therefore man > woman.

Obviously this is problematic.

If we believe that men are not inherently more holy or better equipped for leading than women, then we can swap the gender roles in the analogy.

So let's do some gender bending!

What if the woman could be God/Christ in the analogy? Could Ephesians 5 read, "Wives, love your husbands, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless. In this same way, wives ought to love their husbands as their own bodies. She who loves her husband loves herself" ? or "Husbands, submit yourselves to your own wives as you do to the Lord" ? (The previous verse does say "submit to one another," after all.)

Why not? Still seems like a marriage to me. Taken out of context, one might not even notice the roles have been flipped.
And if we can swap them, if women can be both Christ and the church, then why not two women in one relationship being both Christ and the church?

Why can't all loving, mutually submissive relationships (even deep friendships) be a symbol of God's great love for God's people, and the church's love and respect for God?

Furthermore, the original analogy, with the necessity of both a man and a woman, implies that men and women are qualitatively different and somehow incomplete--that they need each other. This really can't be true. Men are created fully in the image of God, AND women are created fully in the image of God. We are not two halves of a whole. To say that we are is to diminish the imago dei in each of us, and what's more, it devalues the lives of our single and celibate brothers and sisters. Are they somehow unable to display the love of God because they are missing the other half of their "analogy"? Of course not. (And this reminds me, we need to dispense with the whole Platonic soulmate thing too.)

So what do you think? If this Christ/church analogy is such an integral part of marriage, and it can still be achieved in a same-sex marriage, can we be done with this argument?

Nice, Cozy Echo Chambers

After the SCOTUS overturn of DOMA and Prop 8 today, and the epic filibuster over SB-5 in Texas last night, social media was ablaze. It was all I could do to keep up with my Twitter and Facebook feeds (especially since I still don't have internet at home!).

And something came up a couple of times--echo chambers. The idea that if your feeds were a reflection of your own views and responses, then you are living in an environment without challenge to those views, without having to engage with the "other." It's usually painted as a bad thing, implying that if you only listen to people who agree with you, you'll never grow, nor will you make a difference among those who believe otherwise.

However, I don't know that it's such a bad thing.

There have been times in my life when I was definitely not living in an echo chamber. Or maybe I was, but it was more like being held hostage in the other side's echo chamber. Either way, I've been in situations where I am literally forced to reckon with people who don't see eye to eye with me every single day.

And that's exhausting.

I absolutely believe in dialectic, in dialogue and the necessity of opposing forces and ideas. I love having my ideas challenged and trying new things on. But I don't love being forced to, and certainly not constantly.

Right now, I'm enjoying a season of life where I am being embraced by likeminded friends. It's refreshing to not have to defend myself at every word. It's nice to not be subject to the hatred being spewed all over the internet. It's my Facebook feed after all, why should it feel like punishment to read?

There's something to be said about hospitality, and venturing out to meet the other, but I don't think that being hospitable precludes a safe space where you can be yourself among your people.

For more on why echo chambers might not be all bad, check out this piece by David Weinberger.

Jesus Politics // In Defense of Christian Anarchism

Today I'm linking up with Zack Hunt at The American Jesus for his week-long Jesus Politics synchroblog. Today is "Why Christians Should Not Vote," with an awesome post by Tripp York. Head over there and check out all the great posts he's featured this week, and others who are linking up for some great conversation!

For me, 2012 has been the Year of Christian Anarchism. Prior to about April this year, I had no idea Christian anarchism was even a thing--and I have a feeling many of you are unaware of it too. I don't blame you, though. The idea isn't exactly mainstream evangelical rhetoric, although once you read into it, you may be surprised at how biblically sound it really is. It's often treated as a joke--like when those dear, sweet phone bank callers ring me during dinner, and I answer, "Sorry, I'm not registered to vote--I'm an anarchist." I don't think they realize I'm serious.

So now I'm on my own personal crusade to, if not convince people to become Christian anarchists, educate them about the viewpoint, and at least defend its validity.

Let me start with three things Christian anarchism is not:

1. Christian anarchism is not violent. Many people equate anarchism with graffiti and molotov cocktails. And while there may be a kernel of truth within that stereotype, most anarchists--and certainly Christian anarchists--are not proponents of violence. Christian anarchism is a branch of anarcho-pacifism, and a big reason why Christian anarchists do not approve of or take part in the state is because of its predilection for violence through war, capital punishment, and various kinds of police action.
2. Christian anarchism is not about chaos. The idea of an-archy, or "no ruler," may imply a worship of chaos and fierce, every-man-for-himself individualism, however Christian anarchists do submit to the "authority" of God. The twist here is that God's power is manifested in love, as seen in the life of Jesus Christ.
3. Christian anarchism is not disrespectful. Just because Christian anarchists do not wish to participate in the business of the state does not mean they are bent on its total destruction. Part of Christian anarchism is the understanding that the Kingdom of God--that "kingdom" based on love and care for the poor and the stranger--is simply different than the kingdom of this world. It is underpinned by the belief that following the way of Jesus calls Christians to be different--not to overtake or force the state into something it's not, but to live a life in a community that is altogether different.

In the name of parallelism, I should really balance this with three things that Christian anarchism is, but really, I don't think I could do it justice in such little space. And trust me, were I to write out all my thoughts on the subject, you'd still be reading this blog post well after the elections were over.

Instead, let me just get a little personal.

And since it's not really my style to mandate what all people should do, I submit to you three reasons why I choose not to vote:

1. I am a pacifist. No matter which candidate you vote for (with the exception of Jill Stein. Maybe. Kind of.) you are voting for war. You are voting for the expansion of and the enslavement to the military-industrial complex. And not only that, but the government thrives on the disenfranchisement of women, people of color, the poor, the LGBTQ community, the disabled, and the environment--discrimination and oppression are types of violence.
2. I refuse to believe that my vote is my voice. As I mentioned in my review of Electing Not to Vote,  my voice is so much bigger than a "Yes" or a "No," or a check on a ballot. And I will not be limited in the ways I use it. The election process is itself coercive, tricking people into taking part in this nationalistic ritual, and holding it up as this shining privilege--when in reality there is no choice being made except the choices already deemed acceptable to be chosen (and if you still think "The American People" are in charge of this "democracy," ask yourself why only TWO of the FIVE presidential candidates are included in the nationally aired debates). Additionally, withdrawing my vote challenges me to think of more imaginative ways for me to live out my very political faith. Instead of "voting" for a government to feed the poor, I can go break bread with the homeless in my town on my own--no need for the state to do the dirty work that I'm called to.
3. My life is not dictated by the government. No matter who is elected, I will continue to live my life in the way of Jesus. I will feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and love my enemies, regardless of who is in office, and were they to make doing such things illegal, I would continue to do them. The authority to which I submit is not the state, but the Church--the people to whom I am inexorably linked in the body and blood of Eucharist. And I'd rather spend my time and energy participating in the Table than in the voting booth. 

Obviously, there is much more to be said. I can't cover all the ins and outs and challenges and rebuttals here, but if you are interested in learning more, check out the Jesus Radicals website or download Mark van Steenwyk's That Holy Anarchist--a really good, quick-read primer on Christian Anarchism, its biblical basis, and its historical background.

You can also leave a comment or shoot me an email--keegan@papercranelibrary.com-- or tweet--@keegzzz. I'd love to chat!