Quodlibet: Of Gay and Plural Marriage

Does the irreversible trend toward legalizing same-sex marriage augur good tidings for proponents of polygamy, especially the reconstruction Mormons (Reorganized Church of Latter Day Saints) and other groups who support the practice?

An article in the July 20 New York Times raises the question, and another by Joanna Brooks, who was raised a conservative Mormon, hints at how lively this discussion is going to be—or already is.

Or will the noise stop when the definition of marriage contained in the “Defense of Marriage Act,” which defines a legitimate marriage as a union of one man and one woman is repealed.

Until the twelfth century the Christian church was not very interested in marriage, and when it got interested in it it was mainly because there were financial implications for the Church.

Rome needed to ensure that estates and the financial holdings of lords and barons were legitimately passed on and that anything due to the church came to the church.  Some of these dues (called benefices) were paid to bishop-princes under the feudal regime, so it was to the Church’s advantage to have a trusted priest or bishop as the church’s official “witness” (the term still used in the Catholic protocol for matrimony) on the scene to seal the deal.

“Holy wedlock” was a church-approved contract; whatever else being a bastard meant, it meant primarily that the church did not recognize a boy as the rightful heir of his father’s property, money, or titles.

As for the common people, the Church took on marriage as a sacrament somewhat grudgingly after centuries of being happy to let the peasants do it the way they had done it for ages, on the ruins of the Roman empire: at home, in bed, with relatives drinking and cheering the couple on.

The glamification of marriage is a relatively modern affair.  Without the development of the “romantic theory” of matrimony, it’s hard to imagine anyone picketing for the right to take on the burden of a permanent opposite-sex relationship.

In Judaism and Christianity, and later in Islam, it had been primarily a contractual matter—easier to wriggle out of in Judaism and Islam than in Christianity because of some highly problematical words that were misappropriated to Jesus (Matt. 5:32 ; 19:9;  Luke 16:18; Mark 10:2-12) about divorce  in the Gospels.  Paul has no use for marriage, and the church fathers regarded it as a necessary evil for people who didn’t have the spiritual stamina for celibacy and virginity.  –If you were wondering about why the Catholic church has maintained its weird two-track system for ministers and ordinary folk, it goes back to the Church’s early contempt for the married state–a contempt that reaches exquisite spasms of intolerance in writers like Tertullian, the most hateful of all Christian writers, and  Augustine.

Wives should be veiled but not pregnant

True, marriage was popular among protestants from the 16th century onward, but it wasn’t a sacrament.  Luther defends it ( Estate of Marriage, 1522) as an “ordinance”—an arrangement—given by God for the production of families.  In fact, Luther’s famous treatise on the subject reminds the Church that for most of its history it regarded marriage as a second class ritual, useful for relieving aches, pains and passion and primarily good for populating the world with new Christians.  He also entertained three reasons for divorce: impotence, adultery, and refusal to fulfill conjugal duty.  In other words, whatever doesn’t lead “naturally” from sex to legitimate offspring.

Which brings me to the point.  A great deal of the same-sex marriage defense has been framed in romantic terms: Why should two people who love each other not be permitted the freedom to be together, sleep together, share lives and income and tragedies and life’s joys together?

The answer is (has to be in the modern, secular sense) No reason at all.  The state has no reason and probably no justification for impeding the pursuit of happiness. To arrive at this answer, however, the state is obliged to redefine marriage in strictly secular terms, and to reject most of the symbolism and above all the “properties” that have been part of the popular understanding of marriage, an understanding heavily tinctured by theological canons and legal thought.

What has been going on in the legislatures of New England, New York and elsewhere is as much a process of rethinking as insisting, but rethinking the definition in historical context needs to be done if we want to avoid the impression that being pro-same sex marriage is simply being iconoclastic towards the “institution” itself.  If something goes, does everything go?

The old, legalistic and Aristotelian thinking behind the “sacrament” of marriage dies hard.  So does its biblical sanction, or justification.   A lot of conservatives will point to the Adam and Eve story as  a tale of the first marriage.  That’s hogwash of course.  God does not marry them, he just “makes” them (in two very different tales) and they do the rest, according to command (Gen 1.28).

But “the rest” is probably what matters most in the biblical context: they have children, lots of children.  When God gets tired of their habits and floods the world, he starts out with a “good family”, Noah and company, whose proficiency at carpentry is only exceeded by a commitment to repopulating the devastated earth.

Noah’s Family: Time for multiplying

When the Hebrews first become aware of their minority status in a hostile environment, they looked to  a patriarch whose preoccupation is with having descendants—the story of Abraham and Sarah and Haggar and Sarah, again, is all about developing the critical mass of Hebrews needed to make God’s name strong among his enemies (Genesis 26.4ff). Increase is everything in threatened or endangered groups.  Ask any anthropologist.

The paradigms of reproductive success, however, are the kings: David with his wives and lovers, and Solomon with his international harem of 1000 women.  No self-respecting Jew aspired to such bounty, but (like Tevye) he could admire it.

Reverence for large families as a symbol of doing your duty for “the people of Israel” emerges as the primary justification for marriage.  It also explains why stories about barrenness and impotence feature so proiminently in Hebrew lore: what could be worse than a father who can’t do his bit for the tribe? What can be more humiliating (think Job) than losing your spawn?  What is more disgraceful than a barren woman, like (at least temporarily) Rebecca or Sarah? The fear of childlessness even sneaks into the New Testament in the pilfered story of Elizabeth (Luke 1.36), mother of John the Baptist.

It’s well known that religious minorities, especially tribal minorities, have always followed similar logic, though not always in clear cut ways.  If Jesus said anything about marriage it was probably forgotten in the eschatological fervor of the early community.  That’s why Paul make so little (or inconsistent) sense when he talks about it.

But by the time the second century rolls around, a man writing in Paul’s name, and against the “heresy” of radical anti-marriage sects like the gnostics and Marcionites, is teaching that”a woman is saved by childbearing” (1 Timothy 2.15). Marriage becomes important, in other words, because the church recognized that its future (almost tribally construed) depended on a stable supply of cradle Christians— something the more puritanitical and perfectionist bishops didn’t provide.  Interestingly, the non-celibate writer of 1 Timothy thinks bishops should be married–to one woman.

In every place where Christianity flourished centuries later, especially in colonial and missionary cultures, the ideal of a large family had everything to do with the “sanctity” of marriage: this was its primary definition. Love had nothing to do with it.

Which explains a great deal about Mormonism.  As an old “new religion,” Mormonism could draw on its own desert and exodus experiences: Ohio, Missouri, Illinois (where Joseph Smith was killed),  Utah.  The myth of a persecuted remnant drove them on; they created their own class of martyrs ( just like the ancient Hebrews and early Christians) and took care of keeping the numbers up through “plural marriages.”

Before it was finally repudiated in 1904, the practice was an “open secret” in the denomination. But there was nothing un-Biblical about it.  We have no idea whether all early Christians were monogamous and some reason to think some weren’t.  What we do know is that when monogamy has become a norm in religion—as in most parts of Islam–it is attached to financial rather than moral considerations.

What we also know is that from Genesis onward, and from the religious traditions that correspond with it, marriage is a fertility covenant. Adam does not love Eve, and we have no idea how Solomon felt about his 700 wives and 300 concubines—in fact, only one, Naamah the Ammonite is given a name. David gets Bathsheva pregnant after arranging her husband’s death, and receives as punishment not forty lashes but this: “Before your very eyes I the Lord will take your wives and give them to one who is close to you, and he will sleep with your wives in broad daylight (2 Samuel 2.10ff.).

Bathsheba

Personally, I think history tells us a lot about human nature but very little about how “institutions” and the definitions that describe them can be transformed.  I doubt there is any logical argument within the current thinking about same-sex marriage that entitles us to think that what’s good for gays is good for Mormons, or others who espouse plural marriage.

The rationale for plural marriage belongs to the sociology of the practice at a time when threatened minorities considered procreation a method of survival.  That rationale is no longer persuasive, no longer needed: religions that are losing members will end with a whimper and will almost certainly not be able to sustain themselves by reformulating their marriage codes.

Having said this, it is no accident that the religion that still extols marriage primarily as a fertility covenant (and has stressed this doctrine in its Gospel of Life theology) is also the one most viciously opposed to same-sex marriage.

The defense of gay marriage is something else: it reflects the development, over time, of love and emotional attachment as the primary criteria for the right [sic] of marriage and at least implicitly rules out fertility and procreation—the old biblical and ecclesiastic rationales—as defining properties or necessary ends.  That is where we are in history.

The Marriage of Likeness: A Mild Dissent

marriage

I have always been sympathetic to the right of people of any sexual orientation to cohabit without interference from any outside agency, religious or secular.  I regard the sexual practices of partners, so long as they do not cause unacceptable pain to each other or scare the horses, to be the business of the partners.

I not only think but know from experience that a child raised by a loving gay or lesbian couple is as well off as a child raised in a loving heterosexual household, and better off than a child raised in an unloving household.  I find it amazing that same sex couples should not have full access to the health benefits and inheritance and taxation privileges that heterosexual couples enjoy.  I do not believe that the gay life style is any more “predatory” or “proselytizing” than the lifestyles of straight men and women.

But I am opposed to gay marriage.

I can’t blame my gay and lesbian friends for the way the debate has gone, the way the battle has had to be waged.  You can’t always choose your enemies and the enemies of gay marriage have been fighting with Bibles and neolithic ideas of social organization.

I also see that with New England and much of the rest of the country moving in the direction of legalizing same-sex marriage, this little contribution will flicker and die a quiet death and seldom be referred to in a year’s time.   Time and tide are irreversibly on the side of legalization, and when legal, gay marriage will be seen as one of those things that had to happen.  Perhaps it is right that it should happen.  Its supporters certainly and honestly believe it is a moral victory—a “win” for social justice and equality.  In a few years, when the Defense of Marriage Act lay in tatters, we will look back on the days when gays couldn’t get married with the same disdain as we have for whites-only waiting rooms and men-only elections.

Or will we?  Two “auxiliary” movements in the past thirty years have invoked the catechism of the civil rights movement.  One of them is feminism.  As a philosophy it has moved from marginal to mainstream—like all movements that destroy the premises of their foundation as a condition of their success.  The other is gay rights.  These movements have operated chiefly by analogy to movements that opposed the denial of basic civil rights and have resulted in changes that even confirmed political troglodytes would have to agree are for the better.  No woman should be denied any right available to a man.  No black should be denied a right available to a white.

It isn’t worth overwriting this: we take these things for granted, like hot days in the tropics.  As the founding fathers put it with their penchant for economy: “self evident.”

Is the right to vote and the right to earn a living, or to live in peace without threat and violence  the same as the right to live together as a married couple?

In the first two cases, the denial of a right creates a hardship.  I may choose not to vote or not to work, but that does not constitute a case for abridging this right. (“If you don’t use it, lose it.”)  I also have the right to live free of fear, violence, overt expressions of intolerance—but this right to peace and security is merely the extension of a right that exists uniformly within a democratic system.

As an extension of the right to happiness, which the founders listed among the “unalienables” it seems to me that the state should also extend to homosexuals the right to live together, free of fear and harassment, and may extend to such couples other rights, regarding property, taxation and inheritance and the adoption and raising of children.  There is stronger ideological support for the right to happiness and (perhaps) personal liberty than there is for a right to privacy.

I am not convinced however that in addition to extending a right of union to gay couples as a “civil” liberty the state  has any obligation to extend the  benefit of marriage: first, because there is no evidence that the denial of this benefit constitutes a hardship and second because  granting the benefit  actually negates the purpose  for which the benefit was created.

If the example of marriage is too emotionally charged to serve as an example, imagine a movement of older citizens who demand the right to  serve as infantrymen in a popular war and argue that theiy are being marginalized in favour of the youth and stamina of new recruits.  The army suggests that the war effort needs them in other capacities, will permit them to serve as auxiliaries, but not in the infantry because special conditions apply to enlisted men at the front.  A benefit has been denied.  Discrimination has taken place.  But the state has defended in its own interest an “institution” regarded as important for its efficient operation.

The principle here—analogy–is a weak one however: “the state cannot deny to a black what it offers to a white” is not equivalent to the statement “the state cannot deny to a gay couple what it offers to a straight couple.” This is not because being black is a matter of skin colour and being gay is a matter of choice.  Most lesbian and gays, though not all, would reject the latter statement. It is because rights are individual rather than dual or multiple.   Furthermore, the state can only be in the business of securing conditions–such as personal freedom–under which happiness can be “pursued.”  It can’t define or guarantee  a state of personal  happiness.  The state is under no compulsion to secure the rights of a pornographer, for example, just because his work gives pleasure to millions.

For centuries dating back to the start of the common era, marriage was the church-approved form of sexual happiness.  The state embraced it, through a series of historical compromises coordinated its regulation with the Church, and saw it as an important responsibility of civil government: Marriage, family, and society formed a closed set of values.  Divorce was barely tolerated.  Church and state intersected in the bridal chamber.  The act of marriage presupposed a choice whose literal embodiment was the marriage contract.  It dis not matter whether the contract was florid or plain, spoken by a magistrate or sealed with a bishop’s ring,   It was understood that the state did not confer rights on “marriage,”  did not broker the contract.   In medieval theology from about the ninth century this was reflected in the already ancient idea that the ministers of the sacrament of matrimony were the man and the woman, and that the priest was merely the witness to an event performed by them. Neither church nor state legitimated the choice, sanctioned the decision, decreed how many offspring the couple should have.  While the opponents of gay marriage as well as advocates of the practice spend a lot of time talking about the Bible, they will find no formula for marriage anywhere in the Bible.

The analogy with civil rights also fails on categorical grounds. Black/white, man/woman and gay/straight have been forced on the political consciousness as terms specific to a category of marginalized groups who have suffered discrimination and intolerance.  The modern field of gender studies has succeeded in calling into question the “normative” distinction between male and female, which in turn has been used by some proponents of gay marriage to support their case. (What does it mean to say the marriage is the union of “a man and a woman” if both are shades of  biological gray?) But normative or not, the distinction remains central to discussion and definition.  To say that gender and sexuality are different things and that gender in particular is “socially constructed” is not prima facie a defense of gay marriage.

I’d  be the first to say that history should not bind us to the past.  And perhaps I am guilty of the same thing that advocates of gay marriage are doing when they reject civil unions as second-class marriages.  We are both making marriage a prize, something greater than the sum of its partners.

It is part of the flow of postmodernity that why not questions are asked before why questions.  But the question Why not a gay soldier or Why not a woman admiral or a Black president are categorically different from the question Why not gay marriage.  This is so because marriage is not a splicing of DNA but a fundamentally symbolic arrangement characterized by the potential for new life.  That is not a normative statement but a description of its symbolic weight. There are good reasons for lifelong unions between two people of the same sex, but the symbolism of marriage is not the best way to express those reasons.

Finally, consider this:   there is no “right” for heterosexual persons to marry.  The state assumes but does not confer such a right, and even the word “right” in this case would have to be translated by the old Latin phrase “jus naturale”—something rooted in a natural condition, rather than in “jus” or a law of marriage that can be extended as the state chooses. –Not to be facetious, but if it is within the state’s power to extend marriage to same-sex couples, then there should be no reason for the state not to extend it to children, to polygamists, and sisters and brothers.  Surely the happiness and fairness arguments would not prevail in such cases; but without a definition that materially restricts such argument, what reasons can the state employ to deny marriage to such persons?  I would not be persuaded by an argument that began, “Well, gays and lesbians would also oppose the marriage of minors, siblings, polygamists, sexual adventurers.” It would have no more weight than polygamists who oppose the right of gay couples to wed.

Heterosexual marriage was rooted in the natural law arguments of Stoics like Musonius and Epictetus long before Christianity came on the scene.  In fact, it took a long time for the Christian church to rediscover them.  But it is incorrect to think that the Christian or Jewish or Islamic traditions have been the primary brake on the train that is now taking us in a new and experimental direction.  The union of opposites was a matter for philosophical discussion in antiquity, and frankly was a more edifying discussion than we are getting today.