The wedding is so close now, and we’re starting to flesh out some of the finer details. One of our most recent discoveries is that (in Islington at least) a civil partnership ceremony doesn’t have to follow a fixed format, and our registrar has encouraged us to make the ceremony our own. The only bit we actually have to have is a few specific legal declarations that must be made in order for the partnership to be valid in the eyes of the law.
So if we wanted our ceremony to be a tribute to the last scene of Star Wars (with Donny as Luke, and me as Han, obviously) we could.
But we won’t.
We did play with some ideas, but we soon realised that the traditional format of a wedding service is so firmly embedded in everyone’s minds, if we stray too far from that we could end up reaching the close of the ceremony just to discover that everyone is a bit unsure as to whether we have actually got married or not!
So what we’ve come up with is a fairly conventional ceremony with a few creative twists. The biggest change we’re making (compared to the example ceremonies the town hall sent us) is to switch the order of everything round. Most of the examples finished with the legal declarations and the signing of the schedule, but we’ve decided to do that bit first. The reason for that is to make it very clear to everyone which part of the ceremony is about us entering into a legal partnership, and which part of the ceremony is about us making a personal commitment to each other. We want to keep the two parts separate, and the signing of the schedule will provide a convenient interlude between the two.
It’s the second half of the ceremony which is the most important part for us. That will be where our friends and family will witness our promises of commitment, and where we have the symbolic component of giving and receiving rings. We want this section to be the climax of the ceremony – rather than finishing up with a rather dry and stiff signing of a legal contract.
Over the last few days we’ve been writing the ceremony and timing out everything, with one of us standing in for the registrar, and the other repeating the vows. The one problem we found is that saying the vows directly to each other was a bit intense, so we found an appropriate stand in:
While flipping through the Wedding Announcements section of the New York Times, we came across this really cute story about this 49-year old couple who just got married in New York, once gay marriages became legalized. They first met when they were 10 years old! Follow the link to read the touching story of how they met: http://www.nytimes.com/2012/06/24/fashion/weddings/kenneth-price-scott-coff-weddings.html
Those of you who have been following my part of the blog know that I have been dealing with a lot of conflicting feelings about my family and their reaction to the news that Chris and I are getting married. I genuinely did not know if my parents were happy about the situation or not. And they are probably as conflicted as I am.
On the one hand, I am certain that they were still holding on to a shred of hope that this “gay thing” was a passing fancy and that I would eventually find the right woman to settle down with. Getting married to another dude obviously dashes this last remaining hope to smithereens. (And never mind that I had previously been in a relationship with my ex for 14 years, which is still longer than the marriages of most of my school friends). If it is indeed a phase, it is one to be measured by decades rather than by seasons.
On the other hand, they have to feel at least a modicum of happiness that their younger son has found someone (whom they profess to also like) to spend the rest of his life with. The only thing is that the person whom I have fallen in love with is not of the gender that they had envisioned for me when I was growing up, and they still dont have the emotional wherewithal to embrace us for who I am, rather than who they think I should have been. So this modicum of happiness is likely to be bittersweet, at best.
So it was with a somewhat heavy heart that I landed in San Francisco last week. I had been in Philadelphia for a medical conference, and decided to tack on a few days in San Francisco for some client visits and to see my family. As a bonus, it was my brother’s 40th birthday and my older nephew’s 5th grade graduation, so there was plenty of opportunity for the whole family to get together.
One thing I noticed almost immediately was that the invitation we had sent to my parents was nowhere to be seen. I eventually found the invite and the save the date card, both tucked inside an old birthday day card inside a big pile of cards. The invite had obviously been hidden from sight, in case anyone visiting the house should see. I was not at all surprised by this (but I also could not help but feel a bit annoyed, since I knew that even wedding invites sent to them by distant acquaintances would often be displayed prominently on their dining table for months before and after the wedding was over.)
You see, I was already used to being marginalized in this way by my parents. For example, despite all those years that my ex and I were together, there were never any pictures of us on the fridge or any of the walls. However, the walls are festooned with pictures of my brother and his wife, and of their two kids. On the fridge there have only ever been two solitary pictures of me–one of me alone and one of me with my brother’s dog–and these have been up for well over 15 years. In this way, they could acknowledge that I existed, but also continue to fool themselves and others into thinking that I was not gay but merely single, as in the pictures.
And so, for the first couple of days, I did not mention the wedding. And neither did they. I had already written a lot about the Elephant in the Room, and they were still playing this game of avoidance. They had shown no interest at all in attending the wedding, or even talking about the wedding. So I needed some way to engage with them, and to connect with them because this game of avoidance is a zero-sum game, with no winners and only losers on all sides. Continued avoidance would just create further distance between us–an open wound which would eventually turn into a chasm or void. Life itself and the physical distance between us was hard enough. No family needs such additional obstacles.
My big opportunity to bond with my folks came from my suit, of all things. I had brought back my wedding suit for my dad to alter. He’s a master tailor with over 50 years of experience and it is not uncommon for me to bring back some “homework” for him to do in the form of trousers that need hemming, zippers that need repairing, or pockets that need re-lining. But for this suit, in addition to helping me save a few bucks, I thought it would be a good way to get him involved in the wedding, albeit indirectly. However, when I first brought out the suit for him to inspect, his first reaction was to ask, “Why on earth did you buy another suit? You already have so many suits that I have given you.” (Yes, that is how deep the power of avoidance and compartmentalization can be–he truly had no clue what the suit was for).
“It’s my wedding suit, I replied.” And then at last he understood. The change in his expression and demeanor were instant. And I finally saw a glimmer of hope that it was even possible for him to engage with me and with the wedding. He might not have the words to express his feelings, but his youngest son was going to get married, and he was determined to make sure that the suit fit me better than any suit he has ever worked with. After pinning and marking all the alterations that were needed with my outfit, I showed him a photo of Chris in his suit and in addition for chastising me for not having brought Chris’s suit for him to alter, he proceeded to document in detail all the changes that Chris’s outfit would need in order for his suit to also fit like a glove. We’ll be taking these instructions with us when we go back to the shop in London for Chris’ fitting.
My mom’s opportunity to participate came when I modeled the finished product for them. She came over for a look, and to fuss a bit over the outfit, and I could sense that she was proud of me and of the man I had become (although again, the words were lacking). She again lamented that the wedding was so far away, and that there was no way for her to get there without having to board a plane.
And finally, on my last morning in San Francisco, they presented me with a monetary wedding gift for me and Chris, with apologies about their inability to come to the wedding. Most importantly, however, the gift also came with verbal reassurance that they would be happy for us both, even though they wouldn’t be there in person. That was worth more than any amount of money. And so I was able to finally breathe a big sigh of relief, and to smile a bittersweet smile knowing how difficult of a journey it has been for them and for me to arrive at the very point we had just found ourselves at.
Given stories like this in the press currently, and all the ongoing hoo-ha about gay marriage, I thought it was about time I get my act together and write something about how my Christian beliefs work with the fact I am getting married to another man.
The first thing to say about Christianity is that it is – literally – a very broad church. It’s a label that is applied to all sorts of faith communities – from high-Catholic masses to small Quaker meetings – and what I talk about will only apply to a relatively small element of it. For my part, I grew up as part of a ‘charismatic new church’ (the cultural shorthand for which would be ‘happy-clappy’) in an environment where people regularly spoke in tongues, prophesied the future and prayed for healing. My church also did lots of good and practical things, such as lunchtime concerts for elderly people and going to Romania in the early 90s to bring plumbing and heating to orphanages, but in general the activity of my church was so focussed on the wider epic canvas of global revival that it rarely lowered itself into the down-and-dirty world of things like homosexuality.
My church was also part of the ‘evangelical’ stream of Christianity, which meant it was strongly bible focussed and believed that the bible is a handbook for everyday life. And so when I was in my early teens (and aware that I fancied boys rather than girls) and stumbled across this bit of Leviticus…
“Do not have sexual relations with a man as one does with a woman; that is detestable.” Leviticus 18:22
… I found it bizarrely encouraging. You see, I was in a church that believed in healing, and as homosexuality was so clearly against the will of God all I needed to do was keep quiet and pray hard enough and eventually God would heal me. Brilliant! So I never told anyone about what I was feeling at the time, and there was never any explicit condemnation from the front of the church, so I was actually shielded in a lot of ways from the worst that evangelical Christianity could have thrown at me. I firmly believe that had I told my church leaders in my teens what I was feeling, and they had tried to ‘heal’ me, it would have been a disaster and a one-way ticket to the loony-bin. Looks like my chronic fear of rejection was good for something after all!
It wasn’t until I was 24 that I decided to actively figure out what being gay meant for me as a Christian. I read a ton of books about what the bible has to say about homosexuality and came to the conclusion that – well – the bible has precisely nothing to say about homosexuality. On one hand you’ve got a load of ancient sacramental purification laws from the Old Testament, and anyone really enforcing those needs to take a long hard look at themselves, as well as changing their eating habits and ditching half their wardrobe (thank you President Bartlett). Then on the other hand you’ve got a collection of letters written two thousand years ago to a group of churches in the eastern Mediterranean. These letters by Paul do talk about how “homosexual offenders” as well as other miscreants (hello “drunkards”) will not inherit the Kingdom of God (1 Corinthians 6 v9-10). But what I found in my research was that the Greek word now translated as “homosexual offenders” (‘arsenokoitai’ – fact fans) is still hotly debated as to what it means.
I was faced with a choice. Did I choose to base my entire life around a translation issue from a 2,000 year old letter just in case it turns out that one particular group of biblical scholars have got it right? Frankly, that just seemed bizarre to me. And still does. So I decided to play it by ear. I would still live my life according to the important bits of Christianity (you know: the stuff about loving other people, and trying to make the world a better place) but I would also start dating boys. I figured that if the two were completely incompatible it would soon become obvious. But 11 years later I still reckon I’m on the right track.
But many other vocal Christians out there appear to believe differently. Why? Well, I suspect it’s because they’ve grown up in a culture where homosexuality is seen as a bit ‘icky’, and because a few passages of the bible chime with their own personal feelings of ‘ickiness’, they have no problem believing that it is biblical truth, and therefore current and relevant. What this means is that if anyone comes along to challenge the evangelical church’s negative stance on homosexuality, this challenge becomes interpreted as an attack on biblical truth, and consequently becomes an attack on the entire belief structure. This goes some way to explaining the wide-ranging popularity of the ‘Coalition for Marriage’s online petition against gay marriage. The Coalition for Marriage have framed the argument for gay marriage as an attack on faith itself, not just a criticism of one specific inequality.
I must admit that for many different reasons, my sexuality among them, I’m not regularly attending any church at the moment. But I still would call myself a Christian and still spend a lot of time with other Christians. And the Christians I choose to spend time with are the ones understand that the bible says much more about including and loving everyone than it does about being gay. I’ve been totally accepted and encouraged by most of my Christian friends, and they’ve also welcomed Donny as well. I think there probably have been a few people who have a problem with me living openly as gay, but I guess they were the ones who stopped sending me Christmas cards, or have defriended me on Facebook. I can live with that.
But I do recognise this has created a tension for a few of my Christian friends. On the one hand they absolutely want to stay friends, but on the other hand there are these institutions they have always respected telling them that gay marriage is an attack on core Christian values. This leads to an unhealthy schizophrenia – the person who I sit down and have a natter with over a coffee is the same person who worries that coming to my wedding is against their beliefs. It’s unhealthy – and it’s really terrible of groups like the Coalition for Marriage and the ‘Core Issues Trust’ (who were behind the bus adverts) to put people in the position where they feel forced to choose between their gay friends and their beliefs.
So after last week’s emotional phone call (after 90 minutes of banalities–I kid you not), this week we are firmly back to square one. No follow-up discussions. No questions. No mentions of the wedding. TEITR (the elephant in the room) is back. We talked about my nephew’s allergic reaction (which naturally segued to a discussion of Whitney Houston and why it is bad [and potentially deadly] to mix beer and whiskey)…yet besides these issues and a few banalities, absolutely nothing else was brought up.
We sent out most of our save-the-date cards either by mail or email last week and this weekend. But I’m not sure if my folks have received their card yet. My mom didn’t bring it up, and I was not about to bring it up either because I wanted to see how far the charade would go. But it’s a game of chicken that no one can win. By me not bringing things up and pushing the envelope, they can (and will) continue to stick their heads in the sand. And by me continuing to bear this chip on my shoulder to see how long it will take for them, by their own volition, to become involved and engaged (or at least curious) about their son’s life, I am continuing to enable them to stick their heads in the sand.
Meanwhile I am also still living somewhat separate, yet parallel, lives when it comes to my extended relatives, in both real life and on Facebook. All of my extended relatives that I am connected to on Facebook see only a censored version of my life, courtesy of Facebook’s security settings. It all comes back to the pact that I made with my parents when I first came out to them, and it puts me between a rock and hard place where I cannot be true to myself (and to others) without disobeying my parents and breaking the Confucian ideals of filial piety that are the bedrock of Chinese family culture.
You can read more by clicking on the link to the Wiki page above, but these are a few of the things I am struggling with at the moment: Filial piety is considered the first virtue in Chinese culture. In somewhat general terms, filial piety means to be good to one’s parents; to take care of one’s parents; to engage in good conduct not just towards parents but also outside the home so as to bring a good name to one’s parents and ancestors; not be rebellious; show love, respect and support; display courtesy. While China has always had a diversity of religious beliefs, filial piety has been common to almost all of them; historian Hugh D.R. Baker calls respect for the family the only element common to almost all Chinese believers.
Yes, I often talk back to my parents. And I will laugh and joke with them, and sometimes poke fun at them rather than to hang on their every word with bated breath. And sometimes I argue and play hardball in order to get them to see my point of view (when they care to engage). But I also listen to them, I call them with unerring frequency regardless of the distance, time, or cost, and I have done more than my fair share of “bringing honor” to the family name. A Ph.D. from Harvard has got to be worth something. However, by mere virtue of living as an out and proud gay man, depending on one’s point of view about homosexuality, one can argue that I am bringing dishonor to the family by being true to myself rather than by living behind shadows and lies. Good thing I’m not one of those self-hating gays (who often end up promoting anti-gay agendas in the religious right or right-wing politics).
The more I think about it, the closer I get to wanting to really burst out of the closet with respect to those few individuals (the extended family) that don’t yet know (officially, at least). Several of the closer extended relatives (the ones in San Francisco) have not asked me about whether I have a girlfriend or any marriage prospects for years. Surely they must know already. But unless they hear it from me, how would they know? My folks surely aren’t going to bring it up. Yet I feel so handcuffed by the very Confucian values that I was brought up to uphold. And there is also the issue of that damn pact that prevents me from living a fully whole life.
Well, on the positive side, life goes on for me and for Chris. We hope by the end of this week to have our venues nailed down. Calls and emails have gone out, and by the end of the week we should know how much we will need to re-mortgage the house for.
I love that video that Donny posted here. It’s beautifully done, but a couple of lines from the song have been rattling round in my head constantly for the last two days, so I’m going to have a go at writing a blog post and see whether it helps me unscramble my thoughts a bit (because – you know – a public blog is the perfect place to figure out your innermost issues…)
Here are the lyrics:
And his thoughts began to vanish that his body was the prison of his own mind.
You don’t have to be the out-group – you can be the one that fits in this time
OK – they look kinda cheesy written down, but they work well within the song.
ANYWAY – here’s the thing:
Since we’ve started talking to restaurants and getting availability from the Town Hall, my stress levels have been going through the roof. There’s been more than one dark moment when I’ve decided the easiest thing would be just to forget the whole wedding idea, as it’s not worth this anxiety that I’m feeling. But in my better moments I know that’s just nonsense. I know that I’ve got a fine collection of mental buttons, and when something happens that pushes a particular mental button my stress levels shoot up and everything just feels totally difficult and overwhelming. The trick is to figure out which button is being pushed and try and deal with it. This is where the video comes in.
The lines in that song capture succinctly what I suspect I’m going through at the moment. It is about a guy who has seen himself as an outsider all his life who, after meeting someone, suddenly finds he is in with the in-crowd. And that’s exactly where I’m at. I’ve felt a member of the out-group my whole life – whether that’s because I was a Christian amongst the heathens at school, or a dreamy book-loving person among the jocks (or UK equivalent thereof), or a gay person at church, or as a creative person among programmers, or as a snarky cynical person amongst the sincere Christians, or a fairly conservative gay person among the party animals, or a Charismatic Christian among the Anglicans… the list goes on. It’s like whatever situation I’ve found myself in I’ve ended up on the edge of it.
Or, to put it another way, in the great party of life I’ve always found myself in the kitchen.
The trouble is I suspect that I’ve got so used to that particular role that I, consciously or otherwise, end up casting myself as the outsider wherever I am. It’s quite a nice safe place to be in some ways as it means you never really have to fully engage, and never really have to make yourself vulnerable. You just coast along. I think it’s just become easier for me to disqualify myself from fully participating with the world, than it is to try and fight my corner and force people to take me seriously for who I am.
But suddenly with getting married I’m suddenly in a position of full participation in the common currency of society – doing a big significant thing and demanding people take notice. And it’s all completely alien to me and it’s blowing my mind completely. This just isn’t the sort of thing I do.
The challenge for me now is to not hide away from this process. It’s difficult as it’s like I’m shedding a skin that I’ve gotten too comfortable in. It’ll be painful, but I know it’ll be worth it.
No major news this week, but we’re winnowing down sites, dates, and options. Everything is becoming a little more real–and hence a little more scary too! Anyways, here’s a fun video with a cute message that’s all done with shadow puppets.
This morning I put my relationship status live on Facebook, and was really touched by all the kind comments and likes – thanks for that.
It’s weird I’ve never really mentioned on Facebook before that I’m in a relationship with Donny – not in a big way anyway. Why would I tell people when I miss a train, or have a particularly good sandwich, but not announce to the world about my relationship with a lovely man?
I guess a lot of it comes from my Christian upbringing, which is all about loving other people and putting others before yourself. But it has the unfortunate side-effect of me keeping me quiet about things that are important to me when there is a possibility it could offend other people – particularly my Christian friends.
Most Christians are OK with people ‘being’ gay – but ‘doing’ gay is a whole other matter. When I first started figuring out what it meant to be gay most of my friends were really supportive and understanding, but when I started dating men I know a lot of people were really struggling with whether or not it was ‘OK’. So when things started getting serious with Donny I didn’t tend to bang on about in Facebook just in case of any of my Christian friends would have an issue.
But now I’m getting married. And this kind of caution has to stop. Getting married is not a secret thing, or a thing you only tell certain people. The whole point about doing it is that it is seen by other people. And I want everyone I know to fully understand that this is who I am, and Donny is the person I’m choosing to hitch my wagon to (Not literally.)
Over the years I have been to countless traditional weddings where everything follows the set pattern of service, champagne, photos, food, speeches, dancing (in that order). Sometimes it seems that the bride and groom just have to turn up wearing the correct outfits – everything else is taken care of.
I will admit there is something quite tempting about this – everyone involved knows what’s expected and it essentially means your day arrives as a kit with a few pre-arranged personalisations here and there. Even most of the gay weddings I’ve been to follow this pattern. And they’ve been great – don’t get me wrong – but surely a gay wedding gives you an opportunity to break the pattern? After all, whereas hetero weddings have followed a similar format for a couple of hundred years, gay weddings are a new phenomenon. Can’t we create our own new traditions?
Our friends Simon and Nick had a great moment in their wedding service where everyone stood around them and reached out their hands towards them. It was a Christian symbol of blessing and support, but even Donny recognised there was something quite cool about having ones friends and family making such a visual show of support and affirmation. Alex and Dave did something similar – asking everyone to bring a stone with them, which were put into a glass jar during the service. Again, it was a symbol of their community of friends and family, and it provided a really great focus for the rest of the day.
It’s these moments of creativity and individuality which tend to stick in the memory long after the rest of the day has faded away. But how far can you push it before a day goes from ‘imaginative and individual’ to ‘just a bit weird’? One service I went to had everyone sitting around coffee tables eating take-away food during the reception – which was fine, I guess, in they wanted their wedding to feel like an informal evening together, but a lot of people didn’t quite get it (including me). Also, some of the more extreme Christian weddings I’ve been to have featured an altar call during the sermon – encouraging friends and family of the bride and groom to come and meet Jesus. Things like that can stick in the mind for the wrong reasons.
I guess the perfect balance is to have enough traditional elements so that people feel comfortable. After all, for many of our guests it will be crazy enough to have two guys tying the knot without us descending from the ceilings on abseil ropes (although that would be quite cool…) But equally we want enough new, creative content so that it feels like OUR day, and it couldn’t have been anyone else’s.
Given 
