Nothing Queer About Gay Marriage

Last week, via Andrew Sullivan, I happened upon an article that should be considered required reading for anyone debating gay marriage.

She was 80 years old, stoop-shouldered, her face weathered from life as a farmer's wife in the San Luis Valley. She made her way down the aisle toward her grandson, a rosary in her trembling hands. When she got to the altar, she nodded to the priest, who stepped aside as she turned to face the two young men who stood side-by-side in front of the church. In a soft, almost crumbling voice, she spoke. "I was married to Jose Contreras on May 19, 1921, by a circuit priest. I remember how he took our hands and placed them together, like this ... " she said, turning to the young man on the right, her grandson, taking his hands and placing them into the other man's open palms. ... She kissed each young man on the cheek, then slowly headed to a seat in the front pew. The priest wrapped the two men's hands with the rosary, said a prayer in Latin, and turned and announced to the congregation that Jeff and Richard had been bound to each other in the eyes of God.

Whole thing here. Don't worry, it's not one big sappy mess — author Keith Swain does eventually engage the brain as well as the heart.

I bring it up because Swain's piece reminded me of perhaps the best moment I experienced during the annus horribilis that was 2001.

In early May, my wife and I, visiting the Netherlands from the United States, were staying in the sleepy Dutch town of Oisterwijk, in the southern province of Brabant — geographically and culturally quite a distance from cosmopolitan, anything-goes Amsterdam. Late one morning, the weather being particularly nice, we sat on a terrace facing the town square, surrounded by perhaps twenty other (local) people, all strangers. Most seemed moderately affluent, and especially the older guests were conservatively dressed in the way of the Dutch countryside: the men in dark sportscoats, the women mostly in pleated skirts and high-buttoned blouses.

Suddenly, the door of the centuries-old City Hall building in front of us swung open, and out came a radiant bride. She was followed by...radiant bride number two, who turned out to have a whole wedding party in her wake. Smiling into the sun, bride number one reached for bride number two's hand, and with fingers interlocked, they strode down the stone steps, beaming.

The entire outdoor café full of people, my wife and myself included, burst into smiles and applause. "Veel geluk!" ("Best of luck!") called an older woman behind me, and the couple gave a friendly wave in acknowledgment before disappearing into a limo.

After that, everyone around us went back to the business of reading the paper and drinking coffee, as if nothing had happened.

And really, nothing much had. Two people who loved each other had gotten hitched. Thousands of couples do it every day.

That the scene on that town square seemed almost ho-hum in its normalcy wasn't some defiant conceit on the part of a rabble-rousing group of queer people. It was a just a fact, a happy reality — one that was shared, embraced even, by the wedding-goers and the accidental onlookers alike.

Since then, every time I hear U.S. conservatives explain why heterosexual marriages like mine need "defending" from "gay activists" ("with an agenda," no less), I think back to that magical fifteen-second scene on that Dutch town square — a picture of cheer and good will — and I wish I could mind-beam the whole thing to the nay-sayers.

Comments

[Poustman]

Gay marriage should be legal in any pluralistic society.

The moment it's tied to a universal 'isn't that nice' or 'in the eyes of God', I part company. (I've attended at least one hetero marriage I didn't support, too, by the way.) As far as legality goes, neither those wishing them good luck or those clucking their tongues are either worthy of praise or censure. Everyone is free to approve or disapprove, but the government has no place forbidding or encouraging either.

To reiterate: any society which wants to be broad enough for Muslims and atheists, homo and hetero, to both live and prosper within it must not legislate any morality that goes beyond protecting personal and property safety.