Category Archives: Legal Issues

8 Thoughts on Employment Non-Discrimination Legislation

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Over the past couple of weeks, several readers have asked us about our thoughts on the proposed Employment Non-Discrimination Act, the fact that some religiously affiliated organizations are seeking exemptions, and the recent withdrawal of support from some groups on the left. Other LGBT Christian bloggers have been touching on this subject recently, so we thought we would add our voice to the discussion. We’ve mentioned before that we really don’t enjoy politics, and we’re both boringly moderate, leaning slightly left or slightly right depending upon the issue. Because of this, we’ve decided to approach the topic by listing a few random thoughts on employment non-discrimination legislation and the varied ways we’ve observed friends and acquaintances reacting to news about the ENDA. Here they are, in no particular order:

Both celibate and non-celibate LGBT people face discrimination in hiring and in the workplace. As you can read more about in this post, Lindsey has had firsthand experience with workplace discrimination. This has occurred despite the fact that Lindsey has never had a job where Lindsey has even felt safe to mention Sarah, and it happened at one job years before the two of us had ever met. We’ve also heard about experiences of discrimination that celibate LGBT friends of ours have experienced at their jobs. Because of this, it would be hard to convince us that most religiously affiliated organizations would hire any LGBT person living a traditional sexual ethic and are only concerned about being forced to hire non-celibate LGBT people.

Religiously affiliated employers can elect not to receive federal funding. If the ENDA were to pass and there were no/few provisions for religious exemption, any religiously affiliated organization that did not want to hire LGBT people could elect to stop receiving federal funds in order to be able to continue their current hiring practices. We’re not saying this would be easy, ideal, or even possible in all cases. Some religiously affiliated employers would no longer be able to keep their doors open without the money they currently receive from the government. But it’s incorrect to say that passing the ENDA would mean all these organizations would be banned from existing if they failed to adopt the new regulations. It’s also incorrect to suggest that these employers are being threatened with criminal charges.

Bullying and other forms of discrimination are difficult to address if sexual orientation and gender identity are not protected categories. Both of us have experienced tension within workplaces where the company non-discrimination statement fails to include sexual orientation and gender identity. In these kinds of workplaces, reporting derogatory statements and gay/trans jokes or even confronting a coworker personally about hurtful remarks and actions means outing oneself. It means making oneself even more of a potential target for harassment, and sometimes risking one’s job. We think it’s absurd that an attempt to make one’s workplace safer could result in becoming unemployed. We also find it unreasonable to expect that workplace discrimination will lessen over time if some kind of non-discrimination legislation isn’t passed.

We’re very uncomfortable with the idea that employers should be free to pry into the personal lives of their employees and potential hires. Many LGBT people never mention their sexual orientations/gender identities to employers or prospective employers. As mentioned above, Lindsey has never worked in an environment where it has felt comfortable to mention Sarah. Sarah is also extremely guarded about mentioning Lindsey to anyone at work. The only way a person at our jobs who is not a friend would learn about our LGBT status is to ask us about it directly. We wonder why some employers would consider very private matters like one’s sexual activity or lack thereof indicative of one’s ability to do well in a job…unless of course the job has something to do with sex.

But at the same time, some organizations do have narrowly-defined missions and mandates. Some religiously affiliated organizations feel strongly that all their employees should follow a core set of behavioral standards because they represent their employers publicly and their employers represent the associated religions publicly. Many religious organizations want to be able to hire selectively from a pool of candidates who are part of a certain religion or are at least willing to sign a statement of commitment to upholding certain values. It doesn’t make sense to expect an employer to hire someone whose values do not align with those of the organization. Both of us have worked for religious employers who have required that we sign values statements. It makes sense to us that if this is an expectation for being hired and the potential hire disagrees with the content of such a document, the employer should not have to hire that person. This has nothing to do with one’s sexual orientation or gender identity.

Freedom of religion is a right guaranteed by the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution. One assertion we hear often is that religious organizations and religiously affiliated employers should “catch up with the times.” According to this claim, if a religiously affiliated employer’s values do not coincide with particular values of secular society, the government should be able to impose restrictions upon that employer so its religious values will not be forced upon others. But this argument places artificial boundaries upon the constitutional right to freedom of religion. This is a complicated issue because the right to freedom of religion naturally fosters a pluralistic society in which deeply held beliefs will collide with one another. When organizations have explicit religious tenets at the core of their missions and a piece of legislation could potentially threaten their ability to carry out those missions, concerns about this should be taken seriously and not automatically dismissed as attempts to force one religion’s values upon society as a whole.

Federal non-discrimination legislation is not a cure-all for LGBT discrimination, bullying, and harassment in the workplace and in the hiring process. As much as we believe that there is a need for legislation to make sexual orientation and gender identity protected categories nationwide, we realize that if the ENDA eventually passes, it will not solve the larger problem entirely. It’s likely that there will always be employers who do not want to hire LGBT people or do not want to keep them on staff once they have been hired. The same is true for other protected categories such as sex, race, religion, and national origin. Non-discrimination legislation isn’t going to stop all employers from discriminating — many will just adopt more indirect ways of doing it that can’t be proven in a court of law. This doesn’t mean the ENDA would be useless, but it does mean that the problem of LGBT workplace and hiring discrimination needs to be addressed in other ways as well.

In general, there’s a glaring need for better conversation about this topic and all its intricate parts. Most people we know who feel strongly one way or another about the ENDA and other non-discrimination legislation have good reasons for holding the positions they do. The LGBT community is rightly concerned about workplace and hiring discrimination. Religiously affiliated employers are rightly concerned about religious freedom. But the caricatures that emerge from debate about the ENDA do no favors to anyone on either side, or anywhere in the middle. It doesn’t help when progressives paint religious conservatives as hateful bigots who are obsessed with sex, and it only contributes to further vitriol when religious conservatives describe progressives (especially of the LGBT variety) as entitled crybabies who are out to destroy Christianity and American freedom. These discussions require significant nuance and appreciation for different perspectives. A little humility from all parties involved wouldn’t hurt either.

Do you have more thoughts on employment non-discrimination legislation, ENDA or otherwise? We would enjoy discussing those with you in the comments.

Comment Policy: Please remember that we, and all others commenting on this blog, are people. Practice kindness. Practice generosity. Practice asking questions. Practice showing love. Practice being human. If your comment is rude, it will be deleted. If you are constantly negative, argumentative, or bullish, you will not be able to comment anymore. We are the sole moderators of the combox.

Learning to Recognize Workplaces Hostile to LGBT People

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A reflection by Lindsey

This post has been on my mind for months. It’s been a hard one to write. After all, I didn’t feel quite safe enough to talk about my previous hostile workplaces until I felt reasonably secure in a more supportive work environment.

As we’ve shared before, I have the good(?) fortune of being easily identifiable as a member of the LGBT community because of my appearance. I have always had a hard time figuring out why people generally assume I’m a member of the queer community. My sense of style has remained largely consistent since I was five and has never been about making a “statement.” Until a few weeks ago, I had never displayed anything rainbow on my person, and even then it was only a small ribbon worn by many professional conference attendees to show support for diversity in engineering. But I have found that absolutely nothing I do ensures that I will be treated fairly on the job if a particular employer is hesitant about employing LGBT people. It’s hard to say definitively that my LGBT status was what separated me from any past job, but I have strong suspicions that I have worked for at least two workplaces that, for whatever reason, did not want to employ any queer person. As I’m gearing up to start a new job, I’ve reflected on patterns that emerge when a workplace is trying to get rid of an LGBT employee.

I think it’s important to begin with some simple, factual statements. Employers rarely come right out and tell you that they think you’re LGBT. The more blatant the discrimination is, the more likely it is that the harassed person might seek legal help.  If you have any skills documenting the exact forms of harassment, you might be able to win a wrongful termination settlement on the basis of another federally protected category. Overt discrimination and harassment around LGBT status frequently involves sex, gender, and marital status, and I have no doubt that companies curtail the most flagrant kinds of LGBT discrimination. What company wants to be the poster child for that lawsuit? Instead, companies that would rather not employ an LGBT person frequently try to nudge the individual out the door in subtler ways. To convince a person to leave or gather grounds to terminate the individual, some employers will do everything in their power to create a hostile workplace.

It’s no secret that workplaces have a limited arsenal of strategies they can use to try and nudge a person out of a job, and many of them are just barely on the right side of the law. These can be used against any person an employer is trying to move out the door, LGBT or not. But my experience suggests that the workplace climate can change in nearly imperceptible ways when an employer starts to suspect that an employee is LGBT and decides that hiring a queer person was a mistake. It’s especially important for LGBT employees to be aware of these changes. Here are 3 things I’ve learned to look out for along with some of my thoughts on how to let a workplace know that you’re prepared to play hardball if it tries to make your life a living hell:

1. Evaporating support structures. I’ve been fortunate to work at companies that value retention. When I arrived at these companies, I was matched with mentors who would check in with me occasionally to see how I was doing. Mentees could generally expect to have weekly conversations with their mentors. As I have reflected on my past experiences in difficult workplaces, I cannot think of any meaningful interactions with my mentors after people started to think about whether I may be LGBT.

Here’s what I wish I would have done differently: I wish I would have settled into a pattern on Day 1, Week 1 of contacting my mentor regularly. I would have looked to the employee handbook for guidance, but I would have communicated with my mentor in writing about expectations for our relationship. Email is a particularly good medium because one has a written record of the conversations. If I had suspected an employer was starting to feel out my LGBT status, I would have spent the next several weeks tracking my interactions with my mentor to see if anything about our relationship had changed. If even the slightest aspect had seemed fishy, I would have discussed my mentorship concerns with my supervisor and/or human resources in writing. Additionally, I would have duplicated the relevant correspondence. For all intents and purposes, your employer owns the correspondence and does not need to give you access to your work email after you’ve been terminated. One particularly hostile work environment suspended my access to my email account less than an hour after letting me go.

2. Shifting responsibilities. Job descriptions tend to be written vaguely and broadly. Virtually every contract I’ve signed has included the line, “and other duties that may be assigned.” It does not take long in a work environment to figure out which duties are most and least desirable. When I have found myself in increasingly hostile workplaces, I’ve noticed a vacuum with regard to explicit responsibilities with clear due dates for deliverables. Simultaneously, I have observed other people receiving desirable duties, but no interest from my supervisors in assigning some of those to me. Additionally, my work duties began to change, and began to mirror those of people with far less experience and skill. Also, I was assigned tasks with such low priority that supervisors lost all interest in giving me any feedback on my work. With other people working on the important and urgent projects, my work became nearly invisible.

Here’s what I wish I would have done differently: Virtually every company wants employees who take initiative and are self-starters. Long-term projects can be a great way to prove oneself, but supervisors frequently fail to provide timely feedback. When I noticed that I was being assigned nearly exclusively to long-term projects, I wish I’d had the foresight to be firmer in asking for feedback on smaller parts of those projects from my supervisors. Additionally, I wish I had documented the time I had spent waiting for promised feedback from my supervisors. Because employers value team players, I would have documented the feedback I gave to other employees who were working on various short-term projects instead of giving my feedback orally and trusting that my supervisor would hear that I had offered it at all.

3. Increasing supervisory distance. As mentioned in the previous point, doing a good job when starting at a new company requires getting a lot of feedback on one’s performance. It’s really hard to get quality feedback, or any at all, when supervisors keep their distance. One change that I noticed in increasingly hostile workplaces was that my supervisors tended to frame their distance as being motived by the employee’s interest. After all, if an employee reports struggling to get to personal or family obligations in the evening, wouldn’t a compassionate employer explore possibilities of flex time? Giving the employee access to flex time makes the employer look compassionate and understanding. However, if a supervisor starts to use said flex time to be conspicuously absent at hours when the employee is working, I’d encourage the employee to consider looking for a different job.

Here’s what I wish I would have done differently: Workplaces have their rhythms. Through my experiences in hostile workplaces, I’ve learned that few workplaces are interested in modifying those rhythms. I wish I would have taken time to discern each workplace’s natural rhythm. Similarly, I wish I had thought to figure out where and how important decisions got made. People need to collaborate in order to create a workplace that is truly hostile, even if one person seems to be in charge of coordinating all of the puzzle pieces. Some of the more creative arrangements for promoting hostility can lead to supervision-via-documentation rather than supervision-via-relationship. As soon as I realized I was in a situation of supervision-via-documentation, I wish I would have known to start looking for a new job. It’s much easier to find fault with a written report than it is to identify weaknesses in a person one regards as a friend.

As I prepare to start a new job, I have tried to do my homework as much as possible. Even in my two most hostile workplaces, I managed to land on my feet after the fallout because I knew just enough about my rights to signal that my employers had their toes on the proverbial lines. I’d be willing to make a small bet that showing one’s ability to keep a detailed record of workplace climate issues might be the best strategy in cultivating more positive work environments.

Comment Policy: Please remember that we, and all others commenting on this blog, are people. Practice kindness. Practice generosity. Practice asking questions. Practice showing love. Practice being human. If your comment is rude, it will be deleted. If you are constantly negative, argumentative, or bullish, you will not be able to comment anymore. We are the sole moderators of the combox.

Sexual Abuse, Security, and the Seal of Confession

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A reflection by Sarah

Over the past few days, a couple of news items have led me to reflect more on my experiences as a survivor of sexual abuse. Scrolling through my Facebook feed this week, I’ve encountered an array of discussions about whether a priest should ever be permitted to violate the seal of confession. On Sunday, I came across an article discussing the Anglican Church in Australia and its newly authorized amendment to a canon on the seal of confession. The decision, subject to acceptance by individual dioceses, authorizes priests to disclose the contents of confessions in cases of serious crimes. Then yesterday, I stumbled upon another article about a Roman Catholic priest, Father Jeff Bayhi in Louisiana who is being sued by a family. The family claimed in 2009 that their preteen daughter revealed to Fr. Bayhi in confession that she was being sexually abused, and he had instructed the girl not to report the abuse. The canon law of the Roman Catholic Church prevents priests from even disclosing whether a particular person has had a confession, so it is impossible to verify the family’s claim. The Louisiana Supreme Court ruled that Fr. Bayhi is required to testify about the confession, but he refuses to do so because of religious obligation. I have been following both of these stories and have seen a wide range of reactions. Some people praise the Anglican Church for becoming more transparent while accusing the Roman Catholic Church of doing nothing more than covering up abuses. On the flip side, many people are horrified by the Anglican Church’s decision while praising Fr. Bayhi and the Diocese of Baton Rouge for their commitment to upholding the seal of confession.

I belong to a Christian tradition where confession is offered, and it is encouraged that people make confessions as often as needed. Confession is, without a doubt, one of the most meaningful spiritual practices in my life. Every good confession makes me feel like a newly-illumined handmaiden all over again. Forgiveness is the most incredible of gifts. Each experience of this mystery leaves me feeling washed, renewed, restored, made whole, joyous, grateful, and empowered. At times, going to confession has brought me out of dark depressive episodes. It reminds me that I am a fallible human being, I am far from perfect, I cannot heal myself, and I need the prayers and support of the Church as I journey towards Christ. Sin, repentance, and forgiveness do not happen in a vacuum where it’s just me and Jesus. When I experience a good confession, I leave feeling refreshed by God’s grace and goodness, humbled by my human frailty, and overwhelmed by God’s willingness to share my humanity as much as Christ shares in the humanity of every person. Confession is a great equalizer among people. When we come in repentance, we all strive to humble ourselves to receive God’s grace as fully as possible. In confession, everyone is a sinner.

There are times when I can’t help but remember myself as a 12-year-old experiencing sexual abuse at the hands of a member of my childhood faith community. I did not reveal my abuse in the context of a sacramental confession. I remember that when I first told my parents about the abuse at age 14, they refused to believe that I might be telling the truth. Eventually, I learned that other people in my faith community knew this man was an abuser and likely even knew that I was among his victims. However, no one did or said anything to stop him or to make my parents aware that a very real danger was lurking in the pews. As a teenager, I spent many a night lying in bed, muffling the sound of my sobs because the two people I had told about the abuse didn’t believe me (until some time later) and no one else seemed willing to do anything to help. In those moments, I prayed continually that someone would eventually say something.

In my early twenties, I started dealing with the emotional aftermath of my abuse. Working through my trauma with therapists has been a critical part of my healing process. But unlike priests who are committed to upholding the seal of confession, therapists don’t hesitate to break confidentiality in certain circumstances. They are required by law to disclose if a person is a danger to himself/herself or others. Early on in my attempts at help-seeking, I struggled to find the boundary regarding what I could honestly share with a therapist that wouldn’t lead to a response of, “I’ll have to break confidentiality.” As I began to navigate the world of mental healthcare, I wondered, would it ever be safe to share if I was feeling slightly suicidal but with no real intent to act? What would happen if, in a burst of emotional processing, I were to blurt out, “I’m so angry that I could kill (a person)!”? I was also uncertain of what would happened if I would ever disclose more specifics about my abuse, making clear that it had occurred in childhood. Once, I had a therapist at an eating disorder treatment facility tell me that, as a mandated reporter, he had to report my abuse because it had not been reported previously. It didn’t seem to matter that I was 22 at the time I was seeing him, or that the abuse had happened years before and in a different state. I found out later that he had misinterpreted the law, but nonetheless his response to my disclosure removed any agency I might have had in deciding whether or not to report the abuse myself. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had been duped; I lost confidence in this person’s commitment to keeping any part of my story confidential despite the almost-total guarantee that what one says in therapy remains private.

I have always been glad that priests and therapists follow different standards. I find it tremendously reassuring that a priest must hold my sacramental confessions in complete confidence. Because of the seal of confession, I feel safe in ridding my closet of every possible skeleton, disclosing the worst of the worst, and opening myself completely for God to heal my brokenness. In confession, I experience an abiding freedom to admit all of the times I have murdered my parents in my heart because they failed to protect and believe me. I have reconnected with my humanity as I can admit to the terrible ways I have abused my own body through eating disorder behaviors, alcohol, and drugs. I have sought reconciliation after so many instances of harming others and myself. I have been able to confess to God parts of my past that are so dark I would never dream of sharing them publicly. Such is the nature of confession. The seal of confession has been a part of Christian traditions for more than a thousand years. It gives us all an equal opportunity to unburden our souls, receive forgiveness from God, benefit from the prayers of the Church, and walk in a new way of life. In confession, the worst criminal imaginable is my equal, even though I have never killed, stolen from, or abused anyone.

If a priest were to break the seal of confession, that equality would be no more. As it stands, Christ waits at the door of the Church shouting, “Come all who wish to repent! Encounter God in the depths of divine mercy!” However, if priests all of a sudden began employing the same standards as therapists, the message would change. Few penitents would come to confession after hearing consistently, “Come all who wish to repent, but do know that there’s a chance you might be waking up the next morning in a jail cell or a hospital bed.” As much as my preteen self was dying for someone–anyone–to know what was happening to me and offer support and help, even if I had disclosed the abuse to a priest in confession I cannot see how breaking the seal would have been in my best interest. Quite the contrary: it would have robbed me of my sense of security within the safest place I’ve ever known. I would have been grateful to know that a religious leader was watching out for me or taking other measures to assess my safety that would not have involved breaking the seal. But I hope that in all circumstances, no matter how severe, priests in my Christian tradition will always honor the seal of confession. Whether I like it or not, my abuser needs God’s mercy and forgiveness as much as I do, and if he seeks it, I say let him. Christ did not come to save only those who have “minor” struggles with sin. Christ does not pour out mercy in a differential manner; He lavishes mercy on all. When Christ himself was dying on the cross, he offered forgiveness to the repentant thief dying next to him. If that action were not incredible enough, he also called out to his Father saying, “Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing,” inviting an extension of forgiveness to the very people who nailed him to the cross. Who am I to deny anyone, even my abuser, access to an opportunity to fall at the feet of Christ and ask forgiveness? As I see it, to advocate for a priest’s breaking the seal of confession is to risk denying someone an opportunity for forgiveness.

As I write this, I pray that people in all churches will become increasingly aware of child sexual abuse and other serious crimes, especially those that occur within the Church. I pray that Christian traditions will do everything they can to educate people about child sexual abuse and work diligently to prevent it from occurring. But when it comes to confession, if I had to face the possibility that my priest were on the lookout for the “worst” sins to determine whether to break the seal, I fear that I would never return to this mystery again. Christian traditions that offer sacramental confessions need priests who would face imprisonment, torture, or even death before the revealing the contents of any confession. One who fails to do so endangers the spiritual welfare of all who seek God’s forgiveness through this sacrament.

UPDATE: A friend kindly pointed out to me that if read in a certain way, this post could be taken as my advocating total inaction on the part of the priest when it comes to child sexual abuse being revealed within the context of sacramental confession. To clarify: that’s the last thing I’d ever want to see happen. In my opinion, any priest worth his salt would do everything possible to help the child in question without breaking the seal of confession. In the comments below, I’ve listed some things that my own priest friends have told me they would do if they were to find themselves in such a situation. As always, you can contact us with any questions, and respectful disagreement is welcome in the comment box.   -Sarah

Comment Policy: Please remember that we, and all others commenting on this blog, are people. Practice kindness. Practice generosity. Practice asking questions. Practice showing love. Practice being human. If your comment is rude, it will be deleted. If you are constantly negative, argumentative, or bullish, you will not be able to comment anymore. We are the sole moderators of the combox.

Phasing out Civil Unions for the Sake of Marriage Equality is a Bad Idea

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Last week, each of us independently posted an article from the Catholic Herald called “Don’t convert same-sex civil partnerships automatically into marriages, urge bishops” on our personal Facebook pages. Bishops in the UK are concerned that gay and lesbian Catholics who entered into civil partnerships in order to access legal protections will find themselves at odds with their faith tradition’s teachings on marriage if these partnerships are automatically converted into marriages without their consent. We thought the article from the UK context would generate a lot of interesting conversation because we both have diverse circles of friends with a wide range of views on sexual ethics and marriage equality. Upon seeing our friends’ responses, we were surprised by two things. 1) Very few of our American friends realized that some US states have already converted existing civil unions into marriages. 2) Many of our American friends with a more progressive sexual ethic were mystified as to why any LGBT couple would have a problem with their legal relationship being named a marriage. In today’s post, we want to highlight the reality that civil unions are being phased out while also discussing real concerns we have as a celibate, LGBT couple related to our various legal options.

In the United States, civil unions were once available in Connecticut, Rhode Island, Delaware, Vermont, and New Hampshire. Federal courts in those states have ruled that civil unions are a kind of “marriage lite” and violate equal protection. Therefore, the named states are in the process of phasing out civil unions entirely and some (e.g. Connecticut) are automatically converting or have already converted them into marriages. Civil unions are still available in some places: Colorado, New Jersey, Hawaii, and Illinois. However, we are concerned that it’s only a matter of time before civil unions become a relic of history rather than an available legal option.

We wish more Americans were talking about this issue. Why do we so readily accept marriage as the only viable legal pathway to gain certain rights and responsibilities to another significant person in your life? How is it that it is so easy to overlook the different kinds of people who benefited from the availability of civil unions? According to Cyril Ghosh of The Guardian:

“There are a number of good reasons why both heterosexual and homosexual couples may wish to enter into a civil union instead of a marriage. For example, for many couples, civil unions provide a secular alternative to marriage that aligns with their values. Some may not be ready for a commitment like “marriage” – a word that’s laden with history and tradition. Others may not wish to enter into a marriage contract because they believe the institution carries distinctly religious connotations. They may also see marriage as a patriarchal institution and be ideologically opposed to it. Finally, many couples that have been married and divorced may not be ready to marry again, even though they might want to codify their relationship with their current partners and lovers in some way.”

Civil unions also filled a void in elder care law by allowing widows and widowers legal pathways of supporting one another in various health care systems. It has been difficult for us to see civil unions as a unique concern of LGBT people. We know many who think that government should only be offering civil partnerships while letting various religious traditions retain control of the word “marriage,” and we’re mostly in agreement with that position. An oft-cited article from the New York Times highlights that as of 2010 in France where civil unions continue to be available, there are two civil unions for every three marriages. The vast majority of civil unions are amongst heterosexual people. Civil unions are slightly less popular in the Netherlands where there is one civil union for every eight marriages. Nonetheless, civil unions are thriving in these countries. They aren’t viewed as evidence of an oppressive “separate, but equal” system. They are important options for people who are willing to accept the responsibilities of being legally attached to another person, but do not, for whatever reason, want that relationship to be considered a marriage.

We should say at this point that it is not our intention to shame any of our friends and readers who have entered into same-sex marriages legally, religiously, or both. Today’s post is not meant as an argument against gay marriage, and if you’ve read many of our other posts you are likely aware that we believe all committed LGBT couples should be protected under the law and should be able to select the best available option for their particular situations and be informed by their faith traditions when making this decision. That said, we also believe it is important to ask ourselves whether the current progress of the marriage equality movement is in some ways hindering the freedoms of LGBT people who seek legal protection for their relationships, but do not want to enter into marriages.

From the beginning, we envisioned our relationship as something different from marriage. Part of this is influenced by the fact that we are part of a Christian tradition that teaches a traditional sexual ethic, and we strive to be obedient to all our tradition’s teachings. (If you’re thinking, “Why don’t you just go to a different church?” read this. We’ve already answered that question.) But the more significant reason is the conviction we share that God has called us in a very personal way to celibacy, and using the term “marriage” would introduce confusion regarding how we understand our celibate vocation. As we’ve stated in other posts, even in the unlikely event that our Christian tradition were to change its teachings on marriage and sexuality, we still wouldn’t be interested in getting married because we don’t see “marriage” as a fitting term for the ways we relate to each other. We don’t see our relationship as a romantic one. However, it is our wish to be considered each other’s next of kin in terms of health care, end of life, financial, housing, and other kinds of legal decisions, and an arrangement of the kind previously available through civil unions in some states would have met most (though not all) of our needs.

We’ve been counseled by friends to prepare certain types of legal documents (power of attorney, healthcare directives, wills, etc.) for ourselves, and we’re in the process of doing that. Still, those types of documents only go so far. They don’t solve other problems like access to retirement funds and access to assets (of which we currently have none, but hope to have someday) without a significant tax imposed when one of us reposes. They also don’t solve the problem that when Lindsey begins a new job this August, the health insurance policy offered by the job will require the two of us to be married in order for Sarah to access benefits. As Sarah–who experiences some significant health problems–does not receive health insurance through Sarah’s own job, and we’ve already had trouble trying to acquire it through the individual marketplace, this issue is particularly pressing. We’re not suggesting that civil unions are the panacea for all these issues, but we find it interesting that the message we keep hearing from everyone we contact for help is, “Why don’t you just get married???” The specifics of what a civil union does and does not provide for isn’t really the point here. It’s that phasing out civil unions narrows the conversation about how to make sure couples who can’t get married are protected.

Our own legal knowledge is very limited and perhaps an attorney can help us sort all these matters in one way or another. But it will likely be expensive, and many of our concerns would be resolved if, like other countries, the United States had some form of civil union in every state for both opposite-sex and same-sex couples. As things stand now with the marriage equality movement, it’s unlikely that civil unions will last much longer because they have become so strongly associated with inequality. If you’re wondering at this point, “Why don’t you go somewhere that performs civil unions and get one there?” the answer is simple. Civil unions are not recognized in all US states or internationally, and there’s no guarantee that eventually the civil unions currently being performed in Illinois, Hawaii, Colorado, and New Jersey will not be automatically converted into marriages at some point within the next few years. Where we live now, we do have the option of entering into a domestic partnership, but the rights associated with this legal relationship are minimal, and they are not recognized across state lines. We also have the option of legally marrying, but to do so would not only excommunicate us within our faith tradition but would also be an act of dishonesty since we do not understand our relationship as a marriage.

The most serious problem with phasing out civil unions and converting existing ones to marriages is that it forces all people within a particular state who desire a legally recognized relationship with their significant other to achieve that by getting married (with a domestic partnership option being available only in select places). We’re grateful for the strides that the marriage equality movement has made in terms of ending certain legally-sanctioned prejudices against LGBT people and couples, but at the same time we question the belief that “freedom to marry” means freedom for all members of the LGBT community. How is it freeing to know that the only option you have for full legal recognition is marriage when you don’t want your relationship referred to as such for religious or other reasons?

We’ve been told that we’re ungrateful to want a civil union considering how many people have struggled and fought for our right to marry each other. We’ve been asked, “Isn’t marriage good enough for you?” and we’ve even been told, “If you choose not to marry, any legal problems you face are of your own making.” All this from the same people who have claimed that American society before gay marriage showed no empathy or concern for the needs of LGBT couples. Please tell us, where is the empathy and concern for celibate LGBT couples, or do we not matter because many of us belong to conservative religious traditions? And what about all other groups of people who have benefited from the availability of civil unions? When fewer people could marry, more seemed to be interested in holding conversation about the needs of those who couldn’t marry. This dialogue included a diversity of concerns that reached beyond those of LGBT people wishing to marry their partners. How have we managed to forget that diverse needs require diverse legal options, and that marriage still leaves those needs unmet for many?

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Terms of Engagement

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A reflection by Sarah

On January 8, 2014, one evening before the opening session of the Gay Christian Network Conference, Lindsey and I visited a small, independent bookstore in Chicago. We had spent the entire day driving to the Midwest from our city, since 3 AM in fact, and were exhausted. I was still shaken from a car accident we had experienced just hours earlier, and after meeting up with our friend Alison at the last minute for dinner at a nearby Mediterranean restaurant I was ready to turn in for the evening. Still, Lindsey insisted that we take some time to stroll around the bookstore and see what hidden gems we might find. We split off into different sections for a while. Later, Lindsey met me in the adventure books where I was perusing a copy of Jules Verne’s 20,000 Leagues under the Sea. We began talking about all the amusing situations we’ve found ourselves in since we first met, and I noticed a positive shift in my mood. Ultimately, we ended up in a conversation about how our life together is turning out to be the craziest adventure upon which either of us has ever embarked.

That discussion was one I’m sure I’ll never forget. It was the evening when, after months of discernment, Lindsey and I affirmed to each other that we feel called to continue living our celibate vocations together for the rest of our lives. We came to a decision that after spending the next year to reflect further, we will pursue some form of legal protection and find the most appropriate way to honor and celebrate our family. A couple pursuing marriage (however one defines that term) might consider such discussions characteristic of “engagement.” But we aren’t preparing to enter a marriage, so most people we know are baffled by our discussions of commitment and share life.

As I’ve reflected before, Lindsey and I have always struggled to find the best words to describe our relationship and our way of life. The English language and societal expectations don’t make it an easy task: there isn’t exactly a concise term for “couple committed to living a celibate vocation together that isn’t a marriage, but still allows for financial security, the ability to make health care decisions for each other, etc., etc., etc.” There’s no option for “preparing to live fully into a lifelong celibate partnership” on Facebook’s “relationship” dropdown menu. Even more significant a complicating factor is that our Christian tradition offers us little language beyond “celibacy” for describing our vocation and no guidance at all for developing a meaningful way of life in our specific circumstance.

Another layer of difficulty in determining what language to employ is that people in our lives don’t always understand why we believe it important to use certain descriptors and not others. At one extreme, we have acquaintances who urge us not even to identify as being in a relationship with each other. They encourage us to describe ourselves as “best friends” and “roommates.” In most cases, these same people become uncomfortable when we use the phrase “lifelong commitment” in relation to each other, but experience no discomfort with the idea that monastics enter lifelong commitments to each other in their communities. On the other hand, we know people who have trouble recognizing why, as an LGBT couple doing life together in a committed relationship, we wouldn’t want that referred to as a marriage. Many of these folks urge us to discuss our relationship in spousal terms, and some have indicated that our disinterest in doing so sets us in opposition to the movement for marriage equality. With minimal availability of comfortable terminology and an abundant presence of people ready to tell us how we ought to define ourselves, the quest for the best words can leave a person (or a couple) feeling very isolated. Yet despite these experiences, we are heartened by the number of people who, in diverse ways, have been unapologetically supportive of us in our vocation. We have many friends who offer us encouragement daily and show interest in helping us engage with the tough questions, regardless of what conclusions we reach and how those may or may not match with their own conclusions.

As of now, we find that the terms “family” and “team” roll most naturally off the tongue when describing ourselves to others. “Partners” also seems to fit well because this word implies shared work and a shared journey. Despite the fact that many equate the word “partnership” with “sexually active relationship,” we feel drawn to the basic meaning of this term, as we do understand our vocation to be shared responsibility for serving others and serving Christ.

It’s regrettable that people in various types of relationships aren’t always free to define those relationships such that all involved parties feel comfortable with the language used. Language around relationships is highly politicized. How one identifies one’s relationship can raise all kinds of associations for other people. In America, both religions and the government define marriage. In the eyes of a public audience, one’s willingness or unwillingness to define a particular relationship as a marriage often carries ideological connotations, regardless of whether one actually identifies with said ideologies. If any freedom to define one’s relationship and not be pigeonholed into a political category ever did exist, it seems that freedom is now gone. The terms of engagement for discussing our own life situation do not belong to us, and that will never change unless we make an active decision to take them back. With this post, consider it done. Lindsey and I are a team, a family, and a partnership, even if those words don’t have the same meanings for you as they do for us.

Comment Policy: Please remember that we, and all others commenting on this blog, are people. Practice kindness. Practice generosity. Practice asking questions. Practice showing love. Practice being human. If your comment is rude, it will be deleted. If you are constantly negative, argumentative, or bullish, you will not be able to comment anymore. We are the sole moderators of the combox.