Eight years

Eight years.  It's nearly how long President Obama has been in office.  It's nearly how long ago Prop 8 passed, banning marriage equality in California.

And today,  it's exactly how long I've been married to BP!

Like most LGBT couples, we have a variety of anniversaries.  The first kiss.  Falling in love. Moving in together.  We never thought we'd be REALLY married, it seemed impossible.  After all, Lawrence v. Texas , the SCOTUS decision that made homosexuality legal, was only in 2003.

And then, suddenly, we were married!  That blessed "summer of love", the few months when it was legal for same sex couples to marry in California. We married just a few weeks before Prop H8 passed, making us part of a lonely beachhead of married gay folk. We had a real anniversary--but it still had an asterisk, because our marriage evaporated outside of California.  We remained further off balance until May 2009 when the California court concluded that our marriages remained valid despite the proposition.

BP swam the Thames and in 2011, we had a church blessing.  Another anniversary to remember!

The marriage battles went on.  Windsor in 2013 made our marriage federally recognized, an anniversary of a sort!  And finally in 2015, Obergefell legalized marriage equality in all fifty states.

Throughout all this,  one thing remained and remains constant:  our love.  Is it possible to love more and more with each passing year?  I think it is.  We finish each other's thoughts.  We are never happier than when we are together.  Deeper and stronger every day.  She completes me.  I am so fortunate.

Anniversaries: reflections on the journey

7 years ago, we married. Just 7 years—a short time, but a lifetime.

Let’s set the scene. In May 2008, the California state Supreme Court was considering whether it was legal to prevent same sex couples from marrying. BP and I had been sharing a home together for 4 years at that point. California had a “domestic partners” policy but we did not want to participate. As our lawyer said, DPs were an unknown entity; they for-certain didn’t bring the benefits of marriage, and they were too new to know what advantage, if any, they provided. To us, both very traditional, DPs were meaningless, simply a legal slip of paper notarized at Kinko’s. They certainly weren’t marriage. So we had an anniversary of the date we moved in together.

We were gay. We were used to being less-than, a subject of hysteria on the political scene. We just wanted to stay under the radar and live our lives in peace.

Then the unexpected happened. One of my students told me, “The Court overturned the ban! you can marry BP!”

I phoned BP  at work. “Wanna get married?” I said. “We’ll talk,” she said. So we talked. We talked over and around. “You haven’t proposed,” she said. so I did. And then she proposed to me. And we thought, okay, we’ll get married! Our lawyer was not a fan, saying “you are entering a legal limbo. Thanks to the Federal Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA), as far as the federal government is concerned, you are still single.” But we insisted.

By then the hideous Proposition 8, intended to amend the state Constitution to block marriages, was on the ballot. Having little faith in our fellow Californians, we made sure to marry before election day, and I have told you elsewhere how amazing that was. We had never expected the possibility of marriage. It was remarkable.

Sure enough, PropH8, as we call it, passed. We were one of 18,000 couples who got in before.

Naturally, it wound up in court. First, the State Supreme Court decided with regret that Prop8 was legal under the laws of California. However, because it had not been in effect when we married, the 18,000 would be “grandfathered in.” This was significant, because Prop8 supporters had asked for the 18,000 marriages to be annulled; it wasn’t until May 2009 that we knew that we were still married in California.  The sword of Damocles, indeed.

Meanwhile, as I have detailed here, BP was moving from her Roman Catholic roots to become an Episcopalian. And in 2010, our Bishop approved blessings of same sex couples. In Feb 2011, we had an intimate celebration of the blessing of our marriage in the Cathedral. We had never expected the possibility of blessing in church. It was remarkable.

Then Prop8 went to federal court, under US constitutional grounds. The land-breaking Perry case worked its way through district court, where there was a powerful trial at which equality opponents could find hardly any witnesses on their side; the court of appeals, and ultimately to the US Supreme Court who punted the case on a technicality so that in summer of 2013 marriage came back to same sex couples in CA.

More significant for us, however, was the other case the court decided that summer: Windsor, which was a challenge to DOMA that had prevented recognition of Edie Windsor’s marriage leading to death duties when her wife died. The Court, in a stirring opinion by Justice Kennedy, decided that DOMA ’s provision that made our marriage federally invisible, was unconstitutional. In 2013, then, we suddenly became “really” married, with all the rights and privileges pertaining thereto. We had never expected the possibility of federal recognition. It was remarkable!

Fueled by the Windsor decision, same sex couples across the country challenged marriage bans and court by court, they fell, with the SCOTUS content to watch. Only when one court of many decided to uphold a ban did the Supreme Court take up a consolidated marriage equality case, Obergefell, from Jim Obergefell’s effort to have his name listed on his husband’s death certificate in Ohio. Another opinion from Justice Kennedy, and as of June 2015, now marriage equality exists in all 50 states. We had never expected the possibility of marriage equality in our lifetime. It was remarkable.

Of course, there is still litigation. After all, court cases kept going for years after the Loving decision allowing inter-racial marriages too. But the arc of our 7 years of marriage has been filled not just with our personal joy, but our amazement at living through a time of history that has seen us, finally, equal.

And that is an remarkable journey to have shared.

Anniversary

Six years ago today, we were legally married in the State of California, and my life hasn't been the same since. What a joy it has been. I am so very, very lucky!

Touched by an Angel

We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.

Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.

We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love's light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free. 

-Maya Angelou

An anniversary

Four years ago, we stood before friends and family and pledged our lives to one another at our wedding, during that summer of love,  the brief window of legality before Prop 8 passed and put fear, ignorance, and bigotry into our Constitution.

It was a marvelous wedding!  So of course there was much joy, music and laughter, good food and dancing.  We're still dancing, both literally and figuratively.  And every day I wake up blessed.

Our legal union enriches us, of course, and adds strength to our community, despite what the opponents say.  By our very being, we disprove their arguments.   Perhaps this time next year, marriage will again be legal in California, and our friends J. and C., and R. and A. will at last be able to marry.  Perhaps this time next year, DOMA will fall and our own marriage will be recognized federally, finally being fully "official".

But what matters above all to both of us, are the vows we live joyfully together.  Happy anniversary, beloved.

And meanwhile, let's keep dancing!

Wedding gifts, wedding blessings

Last week the Episcopal Church passed an approved, if provisional liturgy for The Witnessing and Blessing of a Lifelong Covenant. Predictably much uproar ensued. Is it a marriage rite? (no.) Will straight people use it? (not likely—there are already BCP liturgies for marriage, and for blessing of a civil marriage, which remain officially off-limits for LGBT people). In the comments to some posts, several couples of long standing were insulted. If we’ve been together 20+ years, seemed the theme, why on earth would I do this now?  If it's not even "real"?

Coincidentally, BP and I were at a (non-church) event last week where we met an out, gay man, M., who has been with his partner 27 years. The host genially barraged M, saying “you live in New York! You can get married!”  M. was modestly annoyed at this. “Why would we get married NOW?” he asked. “That would just insult the years we've had--as if they weren’t real.”

Now, I’ve gone on numerous times here about why I believe there should ultimately be one marriage rite (you can read my commentary and links here). But in this post, I want to ignore that, and address the common theme between these two responses: “Why should I do this now? If marriage is a covenant between two people, I have already done that.”

Yup, you have! And so did my wife BP and I, when we exchanged rings privately. Our hearts were sealed together at that moment.

But we also took advantage of marrying, when it became (briefly) legal in California, and we took advantage of the blessing, when our Bishop allowed that possibility. I’ve told you about both events (here and here). While neither of these events changed our hearts towards each other, they nevertheless were very important to our relationship, and they shared something in common.

Both our wedding, and subsequent blessing, put our relationship into the context of community. Each turned out to be a profound and moving gift to us. And that’s what we told M., as we explained why he might want to marry.

No man is an island unto himself, wrote John Donne, and neither is a marriage. The whole concept exists within a culture and community. When the window to marry opened in CA, we said to each other, “this is complicated (because of DOMA) and it may even be taken away (because of the pending Prop8). It’s not like a straight marriage in those regards. It's not the full thing itself. But we need to take the opportunities given. If we don’t seize the opportunity, and show how much this matters, there won’t be progress.” It seemed very rational.

We of course discovered that in every important way, it WAS and IS marriage, and we were lifted by it far more than we would have expected ahead of time. After all, we had already made that commitment. But our wedding was a chance to celebrate our relationship with friends and family, making public what had been private. They held us up in joy, and welcomed us to the broader community. That feeling of being held up was palpable. Amazing.  It meant so much more than we could have imagined.

And we found, two and a half years later, that our blessing was much more than a blessing of our marriage.  It didn't matter that we couldn’t use a BCP liturgy for our blessing.  It was, as I told you before, as much our Cathedral community claiming us and our marriage, as it was us claiming a blessing from them. Again, a palpable feeling. To become a gift is even greater than receiving one.

It’s no coincidence, then, that the title of the SCLM resources is “I Will Bless You, and You Will Be a Blessing".

Marriage and blessing is not for us, the couple. It is for us, the community. It is a giving to us, and in return the giving of us.

Yes, I understand that there may be legal as well as philosophical reasons why many LGBT people may choose not to marry legally. Many will prefer not to engage with the current liturgy because it’s not officially marriage. And, of course, many couples have had commitment ceremonies or blessings already—they are already beyond this. Everyone has the choice to make.

But… I want you to consider that by engaging the new rite, it becomes marriage. I can’t think of any LGBT couple who would undergo a blessing service for whom it is NOT personally a marriage covenant, regardless of legal technicalities, and I’ll guarantee you the people witnessing it will consider it the same.

And so we were married. And we were, and are, blessed. And both of these were, and are, astonishing gifts not only to us, but of us.

Be a gift.

One year ago today

On this date one year ago, our marriage was formally blessed in St Paul's Cathedral, San Diego.    :-)

The Commitment of Marriage

USA Today has a story describing a new, bipartisan movement towards marriage equality that stresses commitment rather than benefits:

A group of high-profile Democrats and Republicans who back legalizing gay marriage are calling on advocates to shift the focus on the issue from an argument about equal rights to promoting the value of commitment.….

Advocates have long made the case that legalizing marriage for gays and lesbians is a matter of equality, but those who frame the issue that way might be reinforcing a belief among many Americans in the middle on the issue that gays and lesbians want to marry for different reasons than straight couples, according to polling ....

I think this is a smart move.

There is a small slice of the population in the middle that is the swing vote on equality. Prior to Prop8, they were pretty friendly, until the opposition ran their campaign telling lies about teaching children gay sex. The moveable middle panicked, and Prop8 passed. I don't think they really realized what harm they did, because they figured gay couples had domestic partnerships, not realizing that they aren't the same, are not recognized the same, and are treated as inferior.  (BP and I never got a DP,  because, well, it's not marriage!)

Right now, thanks to DOMA (the mis-named Defense of Marriage Act), BP and I do not obtain any of the numerous federal benefits of marriage. We actually accrue significant disadvantage, such as having to do taxes twice, because the state recognizes us but the fed does not. We aren't on each other's medical plans, because that would be treated as a directly taxable benefit that would cost more than it saves. We have to pay an attorney to set up trusts and so forth, since because of DOMA, we are legally strangers on the street when it comes to inheritance and so on.

So what DOES marriage net us,since doesn't net us any of the typical benefits?

Oh, wow. It's everything. 

Every morning I wake up and feel blessed that I am united in marriage with my beloved. That we have made the permanent, joyful commitment to one another, in joy and pain, in sickness and health, till death us do part. I may not yet get any of the legal benefits of marriage, but I wouldn't change for the world the FACT of being married, of looking at that ring on my finger and knowing what it represents. 

In her recent blogpost, Susan Russell describes values that make up a marriage:

values that transcend the gender and sexual orientation of the couple. Values like fidelity, monogamy, mutual affection and respect, careful, honest communication, and love -- the values that we in the Episcopal Church have held up as the standards we hold for relationships blessed by our church.

Yup, that's what the values of marriage are. Legal benefits? Sure, we'd like them in all fairness, but they aren't anything next to the experience of standing before friends and family and publicly vowing to uphold those values. I wouldn't exchange for the world the experience of being married, which I blogged for you 3 years ago.

BP reminded me recently that it wasn't till the summer after Prop8 passed when the CA Supreme Court decided that our marriage would NOT be annulled. Can you imagine what that felt like?  The sword of Damocles had nothing on it!

So virtually on the blogs, and in real life, we advocate for marriage. And person by person, we explain all of this. For example, this last weekend we were at a birthday party for a friend, and met a charming older gentleman. "How do you know R.?" he asked, and we explained that we had met R and his partner at church. As we are wont to do, we exclaimed over the welcome we have felt in the Episcopal church, and as the conversation moved on we mentioned that we were married, and that our marriage had been blessed there.

Turns out the charming older gentleman was a retired Roman Catholic priest. He was friendly (as I suspect many priests really are), and admitted to a certain fascination with us. You see, he's not from California, and had not met a legally married gay couple before. He quizzed us, gently, on our marriage and our blessing and we responded much as I have here. This clearly delighted the gentleman, and we enjoyed chatting (and dancing!) with him during the evening. And he will take his experience of us back to his unfriendly state, and be able to witness in turn as to what married gay couples are really like.

Making a Commitment.

Living those Values.

That's why we are married. That's the right every couple should have. And that's why I make that witness.

Whose blessing to claim?

We got to the church a little early in order to arrange some decorations in the hall where we were having the simple reception afterwards. We put photos from our wedding on the tables, scattered some colored glass, and set candles. We both wore simple skirts and blouses, so there was no need for elaborate wardrobe preparations.

The Church campus is all so familiar now, so we didn't think twice about going down the back stairway, along the narrow corridor past the thurifer's closet and up the two steps to the sacristy to talk to our friend the verger, and find our photographer, and speak to the organist.

We walked up the aisle in the simple procession holding hands, surrounded by friends: the verger, the thurifer, the crucifer, two acolytes, three priests. We only had a small number of guests, fewer than 50. So instead of letting them be swallowed up by the large nave, everyone sat together in the warm space of the chancel, only a few steps apart.

There was a simple Liturgy of the Word, and then the Dean stood for his homily, which he addressed directly to the two of us. He began by invoking those who were not with us in person, which brought a few tears from both of us, and then talked about what it meant to be who we were, where we were, and how people had fought to get church to this place. And then he reflected on the readings we had chosen, and the lessons they gave us two about living generously, and living up to the values of the community. Sent straight and true into the heart, as always, and everyone commented afterwards how moving it was.

Then the ritual, as we reaffirmed our vows, and held out our hands for the blessing of our rings, and then knelt so that the Dean and the SubDean could bless us. An enthusiastic Peace followed, and we carried the bread and wine a few steps to the altar as our friend C. sang the wedding hymn * from Handel's opera Ptolemy. We stood behind the altar watching as the Subdean celebrated a sung Eucharist in her lovely clear voice, and Communion was served, before the organist sent us down the aisle with a joyous noise.

My family was not there, due to illness and the aftermath of my Dad's death , and I missed them. We had a few close friends and some of BP's family. But most of the guests were Cathedral friends, who have been close parts of our journey into the community. And it occurred to both of us that this was family too.

Like families everywhere, we gathered around a table. Isn't that where the family always sorts things out? In some way, we are like prodigals. BP is the lesbian daughter, who at one time was not fully accepted, but is now warmly welcomed to the family table, along with her wife. We are now part of the shared joys, sorrows, and responsibilities of community life.

And while we were asking our family for their blessing, claiming it, if you will, I realized that our marriage was in turn being claimed, being owned by this community. It wasn't just about the gift they were giving us, but making us and our marriage a gift to them.

When I wrote about our wedding in 2008, I commented that one of the things that struck us was the sense that marriage made us a thread in the tapestry of civil community, and added to its strength. Prop8 tried to cut that thread loose.

But this community, this family, yesterday deliberately took that thread, wove it in tighter, and moreover made it an integral part of the design.

And that's not only amazing, but very humbling.



*The recording, alas, is not of C. Thanks to our friend H. for the photos.

Thanks to Elizabeth Kaeton for including us in her moving reflection
Thanks to Grandmere Mimi for words of blessing 

Today, we're claiming the Blessing

Today, our marriage will be formally blessed in St Paul's Cathedral, by the Community that has welcomed us so warmly. I know that many friends here will join our real-life friends in celebrating our union. Marriage matters, and having it recognized in this way is very meaningful to both BP and me, each in our own way.

As I've said before, it's all Father Jake's fault. :-)

Happy Anniversary to my dear wife!

Aristotle wrote: Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.

Today is our 2nd wedding anniversary. We will have a bottle of champagne and a lovely dinner, and to celebrate that most Happy Day, that gives us a lifetime of happy days.

An Anniversary

BP and I are away this weekend celebrating the first anniversary of our wedding. I will not be checking in till after we get back. ;-)

 

 

 


PS: I just noticed, this is the 500th post here at Friends. Thanks for traveling with us.

The corrosiveness of anger, yet seeking the balm of forgiveness

I am not a Christian. I periodically have to remind my beloved wife of this, because she doesn't understand why I can't move on from the Prop8 stuff. She is a truly remarkable woman, a profoundly loving Christian, with a deep ability to forgive. (Have I mentioned lately that she is far, far too good for the likes of me?)

This whole Prop 8 aftermath has left me seared and very angry. One of my colleagues stopped me in the hall the other day, and asked if everything was okay. He told me I had been looking very tired. I assured him that it was nothing to do with work, but then went to my office and thought about what had changed in my life that would make me look and feel so tired and worn out. I have no patience left for anything, even the usual frustrations of work and commute. Yet nothing in that has changed.

And all I can come up with is Prop8, and the anger and bitterness that it has left behind it. It's as though I have an instinctive fight response activated every time it is mentioned. Tears are never far from the surface (I'm not generally a crier), and I feel wary and untrusting of everyone, a veritable misanthrope.

BP is Catholic, as you know, and loves her friends on the folk choir. They are the big reason, I think, that she can't just leave the RCs and go Episcopalian full time. She is out to them, and most of them are huge supporters of us both and were enthusiastic participants at our wedding. (Liberal Roman Catholics all exist in a world of "don't ask, don't tell" with respect to their church, I've decided.)

One couple however was not happy about us. They are conservatives. They were active "Yes on 8" supporters, and of course did not come to our wedding. I told BP I don't understand how she can see them every week at rehearsal and be friendly with them. "They have nothing personal against us," she told me. "They think we're wrong, is all." To which I responded that it IS personal, that these people chose to vote to hurt us, very deliberately despite knowing us. Or rather, knowing her; I have only met them a couple of times.

This sums up a major difference between us. BP is the bigger person. She can forgive, find common ground with this couple, and move on. I can't. I am angry at this couple and all those who voted to hurt me, without me ever doing anything to injure them. And I can't figure out how to get past it.

The agony of waiting

The California Supreme Court decided today that it will hear the issue of constitutionality of Prop8, probably in March. So many lawyers think this is a reach, that I am not hopeful. Six months of joy and euphoria, now we enter six months limbo, waiting for a crash.

Unexpectedly, the justices have also requested arguments on the legitimacy of the approximately 18,000 existing marriages, which had not been directly brought up in these suits.

I find myself in unexpected tears at my desk. I feel completely violated and dehumanized. Lawyers in court will argue whether or not our marriage is "real" or "valid", over our protests. People who do not know us, or care about us, will presume on the "validity" of our marriage.

Are we slaves? Are we comatose? It's degrading, as though we have no say about this. Are we people, human beings? Apparently not. We are mere objects that bigots will revile, and our fundamental humanity denied. The clinical distance and detachment of the judicial process makes us things, not real loving people.

It feels like that Youtube ad I posted before, where the two men force their way in the home to tear up the marriage license of two women. It feels violating. It really does.

This isn't getting any easier.



Update: Cross posted at TPM Cafe (link fixed)

And still we rise

I posted this in a thread over at Susan Russell's, which has since gone off the front page. I liked it, and wanted it read, so I have edited it here slightly for you.

(letter to Hiram, a Prop8 advocate):
It's quite offensive that you assume that there is anything less than permanent in my marriage than in yours, simply because of the gender of my beloved. The bigotry of this view may arise from fear, ignorance, or hatred, or some combination thereof.

But denying my faithful, long term relationship the benefits and responsibilities of civil marriage is simple bigotry.

Either way, whether you deprive us of the piece of paper or not, we're married in reality. You can't stop that. You can't eliminate us, or drive us into hiding.

We are your neighbors. We teach your children. We work in your office. We are your doctor, your lawyer, your grocery clerk, your taxi driver. My wife's picture is on my desk, and mine on hers. You and your children see it there when you come in my office.

We are in the PTA. We go to the supermarket and kids' soccer games together. We hold hands. Our children are friends with yours. Your daughter may date my son. We may sit near you at graduation. And some of us even go to church, and stand next to you in the pew.

In the face of all your bigotry and attempt to marginalize us, to make us smaller, we are here, bearing the witness of what marriage is, through better or worse, in sickness or in health, as long as we both shall live.

Oh my, Hiram, can you imagine the degree of commitment to marriage that endures despite the ignorance and bile of people like you? Despite every effort you make to tear us apart, to disenfranchise and abuse us, to desecrate what we hold sacred, we endure, and still we rise.

It makes you rather small, doesn't it? Bigotry generally does have that effect.

Some reflections on being married

Greetings all, and thank you for your kind wishes here at the Friends blog and elsewhere. I was very touched that my previous post was picked up by so many internet friends, and want to shout out to James, FranIam, Grandmere Mimi, Counterlight and Madpriest for their kind replies.

Our wedding last Sunday went off wonderfully, and we have just returned after a relaxing, and largely internet-free, honeymoon which we spent doing nothing in particular. During this time we of course contemplated the remarkable fact of being married and what it means to us.

Of course, it has not changed what we mean to each other. I have loved my beloved partner-spouse for many years with every part of my being, nothing different there.

But what HAS changed is something of our view of our relationship. We were rather surprised to find that we both felt this change.

First, of course, there is the weight of the State. (This became particularly apparent with some minor issues regarding the proper filing of the license). We are legally tied together with the ponderous ropes of officialdom. Yes, that is a difference; not that we ever took our relationship casually, but it is something much more weighty than an informal agreement between two women--not just a private leap over a broomstick, but real in every official sense with its rights and also its responsibilities.

Second, there is the amazing feature of standing before family and friends and making our vows in public. That was stunning. We were both blown away by the love and focus of those around us, reaching their hands to us, robustly and vocally offering their support of us as a couple.

Third, there is the sense of belonging to the tapestry of community. As a lesbian couple, we have often felt unwanted and on the outside, but now we are undeniably part of the whole. We now are a new thread in this fabric, another married couple contributing to its strength and texture.

Finally, we were struck by how, well, very normal this all was as an event. It was a pretty typical wedding, with tears of joy and laughter, food, wine and celebration. Nothing made this a "gay" wedding. It was simply a wedding, of two people who love each other completely, gathered to unite in a shared life together.

Just one week ago, and the world has changed. It was truly a most amazing day!

Please help us stay married. No on Prop 8!

IT is getting married

Dear Friends,
Tomorrow, Oct 12, your token atheist IT and her beloved partner (BP) will marry each other in a civil service in California. In all meaningful personal respects, we have been married for years, but we are seizing the opportunity to marry legally in the eyes of the State. You might call it "claiming the blessing" ;-). I'll be away for awhile on a honeymoon, where I plan to avoid the internet.

I am confident in the support of all my friends here at Friends-of-Jake's. If you feel the urge to commemorate our happy event, please leave me a note in the comments! We are also asking friends to consider donations to the No on Prop 8 campaign (because we would like our marriage to be legal after Nov 4th), or Feeding America, aka America's Second Harvest, to feed the hungry in these hard economic times.

Over at Susan Russell's blog, Susan posted this amazing poem a while back, which BP and I find very resonant. I'll leave you with that, and thank you in advance for your good wishes for me and my dearest beloved. I'll see you in ten days or so.

Touched by an Angel

We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.

Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.

We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love's light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.

-Maya Angelou