I had a really cool idea for blogging on things I have come to learn since graduating from seminary....and then Arizona had to go and get all sorts of crazy on me.
<sigh>
Maybe next week.....
Okay, so, Arizona. Where do I even start?
For those of you who have no idea what the heck I'm speaking of, the US state of Arizona passed a law this previous week allowing businesses to deny service due to "religious ideology." This was, largely, in response to the recent widening of GLBT marriage rights through the judicial system. Because clearly this -not the plight of Syrian refugees, aid to Africa, human trafficking, access to education, nor anything else- is the most important thing facing faith and society today. <sigh>
Obviously, I'm a bit dumbfounded by this law. For starters, who defines religious ideology and/or religious conviction? If I'm a devout Aryan, does this mean that I can now deny service to Jews? What about Jewish fundamentalists, can they now deny service to Arabs? (And vice-versa.) And -here's the kicker- how is this any different from the Jim Crow laws of the early-mid 20th century? This has got to be one of THE most short-sighted laws to come down the pipe in recent memory. Oy!
Don't get me wrong, I understand that GLBT issues are very sensitive to a number of people on both sides of the proverbial aisle. Honestly, it's that way in my own family; we have some very different and differing perspectives upon the topic, depending upon who you're speaking with. And honestly, that's okay. Maybe it's not right, but it's okay.
It's okay to have differing ideas on topics. It's okay to be passionate about those beliefs. I would even say that, to an extent, it's okay to surround yourself with folks that have similar beliefs to your own. (Though, getting outside the box now and then certainly can't hurt, non?) What's not okay, however, is to employ politics to validate your passionately held religious ideologies and vice versa.
This is something which has, believe it or not, been a lynch-pin of Protestant theology since its inception. Even in more theocratic locales, such as Reformation Geneva, there was, in essence a difference between the rule of state and the rule of church. (Though, admittedly, the two did overlap in areas.) Perhaps the most convincing argument for the separation of church and state came from none other than Martin Luther. Luther's essay on "Temporal Authority" was resolute that there were two different realms within this world: moral authority and temporal authority. The former was the realm of the church, the latter was the realm of the state. The two could -and should- work together closely to ensure a well-regulate and just society, but they should not intrude upon one another. (Government was, to Luther, given and provided by God. However, this was the day of autocratic princes and kings. We might question whether Herr Luther would see things as such today!)
Why not?
Well, honestly, the construction of the state, to Luther, didn't lend itself to the work of morality and the same for the church. The church, by its very constitution, was not built to handle matters of the state. This is, I fear, something which we have forgotten over time.
Good government cannot, ever, be an exercise in a particular type of faith for the very reason that there will always be those outside of a given faith within that governmental realm. Faith can never be an exercise of government as it will then cease to be a belief in the unseen and unknown and become a reliance upon that which is tangible and now.
In sum: if your government needs faith to support it, it's bad. If your faith needs government to support it, it's also bad.
So, instead of passing asinine laws, what might we do which would be productive for the situation?
Again, I understand that GLBT issues are sensitive, particularly to people of differing ideas of faith. Keeping with Martin Luther, perhaps, it's time for a new round of dialogues and discussions both inside and outside the realm of faith? One of the things which infinitely helped the reformation was its commitment to dialogue both outwith and inside of itself. The Diet of Worms, The Marburg Colloquy, The Synod of Dordt and others -even when they did not come to conclusion or came to conclusions which were debatable- were incredibly helpful in elucidating and conceiving beliefs in the new world of Protestantism.
Maybe we, today, are in a world which is too big to hold over-arching conferences such as these, but maybe, just maybe, we can still commit to talking, explaining, listening, and hearing?
I cannot help but feel that, should we do such things, we will no longer have to resort to any short-sighted and knee-jerk dependence upon government to support matters of faith.
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