You are currently browsing the category archive for the ‘relationship’ category.
I don’t know about you, but I try not to think about what other people do in the privacy of their own bedrooms.
Don’t get me wrong–it happens. You know how it is: you see, for instance, a particularly oddly-matched couple. And you can’t help thinking, “Wait. Really? How does that even work?” I’m not saying I’m proud of it, but I go there sometimes, despite my best efforts not to. In my defense, it’s not so much prurient interest as it is morbid curiosity. And, as I said, I try to banish those thoughts and I certainly don’t dwell on them, no matter how innocently they arise.
So, yeah, no offense, but I have no desire to imagine you doing the nasty. I like to think that you’re returning the favor and, yaknow, not thinking about me that way. I mean, c’mon, it’s creeping me out just thinking about your thinking about it. Stop already; you know who you are.
But it seems that too many Evangelicals just can’t get their heads out of other folks’ nether regions, um, metaphorically speaking. At least that’s the best I can figure. Why else are they so concerned about same-sex marriage? Why else, other than, well, the sex?
To their credit, sex is important. What’s more, it’s great fun, and a delightful thing to think about. I just make a point of thinking about sex with my wife and not, for example, sex between a couple of dudes–no matter how buff they are or how sweetly sensitive they seem to be (I’m a big fan of the cuddling and the sharing, and I like to think that others are too).
I’ll go further and say that from my perspective, in accordance with my personal religious beliefs and a variety of values I hold dear, sex is critically important, deeply spiritually significant, even essential. But those are my beliefs. I will express them and live them; I will even advocate for them; but I don’t feel it is my right or responsibility to impose them on you. And, as I said, even though sex is important to me, I’ve decided that it’s not important to me to think about you having sex.
One more thing: I don’t need or want Uncle Sam peering through the curtains or sneaking a peek beneath the sheets either. I certainly don’t want Congress or the Courts regulating my sex life (or the sex lives of other consenting adults). I would think that folks who are always clamoring for “limited government” would agree.
So if we can agree that I don’t need to think about you having sex and you don’t need to think about me having sex and the government doesn’t need to be involved in anyone’s sex life (notwithstanding the occasional scantily-clad census worker fantasy you and your significant other like to act out), what’s the deal with same-sex marriage?
The deal, as I see it, is commitment. Two people commit to care for each other, to radically identify with each other, to pool their resources, to make a life together. The reasonable consequence of that commitment is that those two people are entitled to certain basic rights. The premise being that this kind of long term, committed relationship is good for society and that society should recognize it, honor it and try to support and preserve it.
At least that’s how I see it.
If I had my druthers, I’d reserve the word “marriage” for the sacred, freaky, heterosexual joy I experience with my beloved. But I don’t often get my druthers. And I long ago resigned myself to the fact that “marriage” means something different even to most breeders, yea verily, even to most breeder couples who claim to be “married.” Truly, I’m far less bothered by a loving, committed homosexual couple using the word “marriage” to describe their relationship than I am by, oh, let’s say, adulterer and serial monogamist Newt Gingrich calling what he does “marriage.” I wouldn’t be surprised if Yahweh Himself prefers gay marriage to adultery and divorce.
- from my personal perspective, marriage is, to a great degree, about sex (which my wife and I will enjoy in private; or if in public, at least discretely); but . . .
- from a social perspective, marriage is about commitment; and . . .
- from a public policy perspective, marriage is about the civil rights to which participants in said commitment are entitled.
Those are three things I care about and am willing to fight for–not just for myself, but for everyone. But, I promise you, I’m not interested in your or anyone else’s sex life and I implore you not to ask me to take that interest.
I encourage you to enjoy your sexuality and even to think about it a lot; but if you find that all you can think about is someone else’s sex life, you might consider getting some help–or just getting a life.
I’m pretty sure that I can only ever manage one relationship at a time.
And when I say “manage” I don’t mean “control” or even “steward.” I mean “mostly sort of be in authentically.” I leave the practice of “managing” relationships to demigods and super heroes; really, I’m quite content to consign the whole notion to the realm of leprechauns and unicorns. It’s enough for me that I’m more-or-less capable of sometimes being kinda present to any one other person at any point in time.
Don’t think I’m being sarcastic. Okay, maybe a little, but not much.
I don’t mind gatherings, but if I’m expected to truly acknowledge the existence of two or more of you, you’re out of luck. “Two or more” sounds very much to me like Jesus magic. Yes, I think it is. Now you know why He said that. You’re welcome.
When the two women I love most, my wife and daughter, are in the same room at the same time, I’m pretty sure my heart explodes. Yeah, that might be a good thing, but it’s also bad, very bad.
My apologies to all of you whenever I vibe on the Godness. Indeed, my apologies to the Father and the Spirit when I find my way to Jesus.
I don’t rule out the possibility of some kind of simultaneity, but, just so you know, if this ever happens, it’s an accident. I’ll take it, but I can’t take credit for it.
I’m pretty sure this all has something to do with my comprehension that “multitasking” is a delusion. No, I don’t believe any of you. At best, you’re time-slicing. And that’s swell. But I’m sick of your boastful bullshit. And I, for one, am quite content to be less polyfunctional than you believe you are.
Thanks for listening. I feel much better now.