Friday, June 26, 2015

Why Gay Marriage Does and Doesn't Matter


I was upset with the Supreme Court's decision. Not merely on moral grounds (as I will no doubt be accused, as if that were some crime), but on grounds of how this country's political system was created to function. Up until this point, the redefinition of civil marriage had been a state-by-state issue. Some embraced same sex marriage by popular vote, some by legislative action. Most were under court order. Even in the latter, least-representative cases, it was a state issue.

Not anymore. All 50 states must now comply, not with a new law, but with the Supreme Court's reinterpretation of what the Constitution means and addresses. On the whim of five appointed justices, the entire country's law means a new and different thing than it did before. This is not the first nor last case like this, but it puts into stark focus the immense transformation (or decay, I would contend) our nation's political ideals and institutions have undergone. Whether one sees this as a good or bad thing, it is undeniable that America in 2015 is drastically different at its core from America since 1787.

I am also perturbed by the responses I've seen to this decision. Not from people making rainbow avatars or equals signs; I view that as, at worst, silly. I'm bothered by responses like those from Gawker, who vilely gloated in their supposed victory and told everyone who opposed this, and forgive my quotation of profanity, "Fuck you."

This makes me sad and angry. A movement claiming to espouse love and tolerance is revealing itself to be, though not universally, significantly motivated by naked hatred of Christianity and its followers. The people with this mindset will continue to press their advantage. There is already talk of removing tax exemption from churches that do not comply with gay marriage. I'm not just being paranoid, it's a real thing. Freedom of religion is rapidly eroding, not because of this ruling per se, but because of the societal and political mindset that made it possible.

All of this has troubled me and many like me.

Should it, though?

What is true and good does not change, no matter what a court, or an entire country, or the entire world says. God does not change. The world does. It is fickle, deceptive, and wicked. Why should we trust it to uphold goodness? Why should we even expect it to?

America was founded on many ideas, but the one it depended on most for sustained success was a virtuous and vigilant people. How many virtuous and vigilant peoples have existed in the world's history? God's own chosen people, through whom He kept his promise to deliver the world from sin, were so unfaithful that God likened them to a whore! Who are we to expect we can do better? To think, at any time, that we are better? We are all, individually and collectively, sinful, weak, selfish creatures.

Perhaps above all else, though, we are prideful and arrogant. So arrogant that we even try to take God's perfect will into our own hands. God promised to sustain us, His bride the Church, with the Holy Spirit. He didn't say anything about our Enlightenment-inspired political experiments. We thought we could be the protectors and preservers of goodness. We can't. That's why we need Christ.

God's kingdom is not of this world (John 18:36). Even the best worldly kingdom will always fall short of our own ideals, much less God's. The plans and promises of men, even the best men, are like chaff. Only God's kingdom will reign forever.

So if I'm mad at what the Supreme Court says, or what the President says, or what Gawker says, or what even my friends might say, the fault is mine. Why do I care so much what the world says? I should be listening to what God says, even though—especially though—the world doesn't.

"What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. Who then is the one who condemns? No one. Christ who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written:

'For your sake we face death all day long;
we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.'

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." -Romans 8: 31-39

Monday, June 15, 2015

Old Dead White Men Are Human Too

William is tired of your nonsense.

Last night, I saw this article in the Washington Post about a teacher who thinks we shouldn't teach Shakespeare because he's old and white.

I kinda freaked out.
I reacted this way not because I think Shakespeare is the only author worth reading, or that a teacher can't reasonably exclude or include certain authors for a variety of reasons. I object so profusely because this person's reasoning behind her claim is... well...


All in all, this teacher's objections to Shakespeare strike me as astoundingly ignorant and dangerously narrow-minded. The idea that Shakespeare "lived in a pretty small world" is utterly preposterous. As I so eloquently objected on Twitter:

I mean, really, to call a time in which Shakespeare's contemporary countryman literally went around the entire world "small" is ridiculous. Not to mention that arguably his most famous and iconic play, Romeo and Juliet, isn't even set in England (and neither is his final play, The Tempest).

The more egregious claim to me, though, is the idea that Shakespeare (or any author) was a mere "chronicler" of his time. I, again, objected with erudition:

If you know anything about Shakespeare, you know that about half of his plays are set in historical England or ancient Rome. He even combines the two in Cymbeline, set in Roman-occupied Britain. He barely wrote about "life 450 years ago" at all. Shakespeare was greatly concerned with the past, and not only that of his own nation.

This teacher's "solution" to what she perceives as a problem is nonsensical. The way to expand your students' horizons is not to "dispense with our Eurocentric presentation of the literary world." She treats education like a zero-sum game; this simply isn't true. And as a friend pointed out, to argue African oral traditions deserve "equal time and value" with Shakespeare while arguing not to teach Shakespeare is to argue not to teach African oral tradition. That an English teacher would have such poor communication skills is worrying.

The real heart of the matter is what she thinks is the problem: that something from a different time or a different ethnicity is irrelevant to a student of a modern age and particular heritage. This response, also from the Washington Post, articulates my objection well:
I teach at a rural South Carolina school with a mostly white population—should I only teach white authors? Will all of my white students feel an immediate kinship to Faulkner or Hemingway to Twain?  Will all of my female students see themselves perfectly in the characters of Flannery O’Connor? Will all of my black students read A Raisin in the Sun and immediately connect to the desperation and inner turmoil of Walter Younger?  Obviously not.
To think you can only learn from someone externally the same as you is foolish and misses the point of literature entirely. Shakespeare doesn't write merely to communicate the experience of White Noble named Hamlet (and, by the way, another prominent Shakespeare character, Othello, ain't even white). He's writing about human experience. Jealousy. Rage. Depression. Suicide. Madness. Love. Prejudice. Confusion. Virtue. Cowardice. Debauchery. Treachery. Forgiveness. Can someone who wasn't a white Englishman in 1590 really not relate to these things, expressed with mastery and eloquence? Is the aim of studying literature really to seek out people exactly like us and throw away the rest as irrelevant to our own lives? No.

Segregating ourselves by external features and dismissing the commonality of the human experience is tragic. It pigeonholes us into mere ethnic specimens and actually limits our individuality. Empathetic, intellectually curious humans can find themselves in Shakespeare, Dante, Hemingway, Chinua Achebe, Sun Tzu, or any author or literature that deals with humanity.

You shouldn't teach "only" Shakespeare. You shouldn't teach "only" anything. Shakespeare certainly didn't think so. Why would he write about Julius Caesar if he was only concerned with the Englishman's experience? If Shakespeare thought a 1700-year-old Italian man was worth writing about, surely we can accept that a 450-year-old Englishman is worth reading.