April 2010 Archives

There are two terms that eventually come up in any sustained dialogue on the morality of homosexual practice or homosexual marriage: One is bigotry and the other is homophobia. These terms are brought together emphatically in the searing appellation bigoted homophobe. For educational purposes, I would like to explore this personal question: Am I a bigoted homophobe?

To be honest, I have not always been familiar with this terminology. When I was growing up, these simply were not words used in my family. So to answer this question, I will need to turn to an English dictionary. I have two such resources within easy reach: first, the online definitions available at Dictionary.com; second, a hard-back edition of Webster's II New College Dictionary.

To simplify this question, I will split the terminology and address the adjective before the adverb. So first: Am I a homophobe? One can only assume that a homophobe is someone who is homophobic, or has the condition known as homophobia, which is so defined:

Unreasoning fear of or antipathy toward homosexuals and homosexuality. (Dictionary.com)

Fear of or contempt for lesbians and gay men. (Webster's II)

That is a rather inconvenient set of definitions for the term, because of the broadness and ambiguities. The first definition looks for either an irrational fear, or some vague aversion. The term antipathy itself is difficult, because of its many shades of meaning, as also provided by Dictionary.com:

1. a natural, basic, or habitual repugnance; aversion.

2. an instinctive contrariety or opposition in feeling.

3. an object of natural aversion or habitual dislike.

The second definition (of homophobia) requires either any general fear of homosexuals, or instead contempt, which is a stronger term than antipathy. The first definition requires that feeling be directed toward both homosexuality and homosexuals, while the second specifies only homosexuals. So from the start no clear distinction is made here between attitudes toward homosexual practices and attitudes toward the homosexuals themselves.

So, back to me: I am not afraid of homosexuals, at least on a physical level. Frankly, I cannot ever recall meeting a lesbian or a gay person who looked tough enough to be a threat to me, though there probably are some out there somewhere. Do I feel threatened by homosexuality somehow? Not directly. Just because somebody else is homosexual, this does not mean that I have to be homosexual or that I have to like it.

Certainly though, I feel that homosexuality is a threat to society. I am afraid of what homosexuality will do to our country, namely, destroying the family unit, confusing gender roles, and ultimately bringing us under the wrath of the Almighty God. On the last point, I will state that from the very beginning of history (see Genesis 1) God has created human beings as male and female, and he has made it abundantly clear that his intention is for human sexuality to be enjoyed only between male and female, consummated within the sacred boundaries of marriage. When a nation embraces homosexuality, they effectively shake their fists in the face of God, and eventually he must judge that rebellion.

Do I have contempt for homosexuals? That is something of a complex question. One the one hand, I desire the best for homosexuals, specifically that they turn away from their homosexuality, find forgiveness from God through Christ, and come to experience the joys and pleasures that can be found in living a pure, heterosexual life-style. On the other hand, it is not always easy to separate my view of a person from lifestyle choices he or she chooses to make, or the philosophy he or she chooses to advocate.  I certainly have a strong contempt for homosexuality. So is it also possible that I have some contempt for the people who not only embrace homosexuality in their personal lives, but also boldly promulgate their views, either loudly from the roof tops, or through displays of sexual innuendo in public places? Probably so.

But we see now that the definition of homophobia itself is stacked, for it casts a very broad net. Those who use the term casually never define specifically what they mean by terms like "fear" or "contempt," nor do they take into consideration the various motives that might inspire a person to stand in opposition to the practices and teachings of the homosexual movement.

So let us move on to next question: Am I bigot? Unfortunately, this question is even more muddled than the last. Let us work here with the definition of bigot provided by Dictionary.com:

A person who is utterly intolerant of any differing creed, belief, or opinion.

Ah, but now we have only traded one ambiguous word for an unworkable definition. For if being a bigot means being utterly intolerant of any differing creed, belief, or opinion, then to avoid the label, one must be at least somewhat tolerant of every differing creed, belief, and opinion. If such be the case, then the homosexual is as guilty as I am, for he himself has shown intolerance toward my belief that homosexuality is wrong and should not be practiced.

Furthermore, the term intolerance itself is a difficult word: So we go back to the dictionaries:

Lack of toleration; unwillingness or refusal to tolerate or respect contrary opinions or beliefs, persons of different races or backgrounds, etc. (Dictionary.com)

Unwilling to tolerate differences in opinions or beliefs, esp. religious beliefs (Webster's II)

Of course, both definitions involve their counter-term, tolerance, so we must investigate that word as well:

A fair, objective, and permissive attitude toward opinions and practices that differ from one's own. (Dictionary.com)

Recognition of and respect for the opinions, practices, or behavior of others. (Webster's II)

Now we descend into a host of interesting conflicts and contradictions. Let us say that toleration means to have a fair, objective, and permissive attitude, et cetera. Personally, I have heard of fair practices, but never a fair attitude, so I will leave off that discussion. As far as objectivity is concerned, it is clear that in the debate regarding homosexuality, neither side is truly objective. Everyone on my side of the debate is obviously against homosexuality. Many of the people on the other side of the debate are people who want to practice homosexual life styles. Then there are the heterosexuals who take the side of the homosexuals, arguing that it is wrong for me to condemn homosexuality. Clearly everybody takes up a position for something and against something, and everybody has personal preferences for some kind of sexuality, and so the myth of objectivity disperses, like the vapor that it is.

Then we touch on permissiveness. On the one hand, I am permissive toward my opponents in that I respect their right to have opinions. On the other hand, my core beliefs compel me to argue that those opinions are both wrong and harmful. Likewise, the homosexuals assert that it is wrong for me to speak out against homosexual practices, even though that is my opinion!

As you have no doubt realized by now, the purpose of this article was never to clear up the question of whether or not I am a bigoted homophobe. The purpose rather is to demonstrate that the phrase bigoted homophobe is a murky, confused, and loaded construction. Despite all its emotional baggage, the label really communicates nothing about the subject, nor does it bring us any closer to the essence of the debate.

The terms bigot and homophobe have no fitting place in a debate over the morality of homosexuality. Nevertheless, the moment we step into the dock, it is assumed that bigotry is an established crime, that homophobia is a social disease, and that it is our responsiblity to exonerate ourselves from these burning accusations. I say that it is high time we throw off the chains of this terminology, imposed senselessly on us by our liberal opponents. Instead, we should shift focus onto the substance of the matter: understanding what is right and what is wrong.

I heard about this interesting organization on the news today: Students for Concealed Carry on Campus:

http://www.concealedcampus.org/

Evidently they had some legal success recently fighting anti-gun policy at the University of Colorado:

http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5hOnUg5iFzuQc4v7Ri7S0AT4VSAeAD9F3KTL83

If I was not broke, I would not mind buying one of these nifty t-shirts:

http://www.cafepress.com/sccc_gfz.178973314

This news struck a chord with me, not because I walk around everywhere with a 9mm tucked under my shirt, but because I am a university student, and I am sick of enduring crippling restrictions on my second amendment rights in the one place where I spend ninety percent of my workday. I am not a lawyer, but after coming on campus at the University of Alaska Fairbanks, I communicated with university police, who pointed me to university policy and Alaska state law. Basically the rules came down to this (the non-technical summary): No guns on are allowed on campus, unless you are a peace officer. If you live on campus (and I do not) you can bring your guns on campus in order to turn them into campus police, who will give them back to you when you want to leave.

This is irritating because not only can I not carry a firearm around with me on campus, but I also cannot legally leave one in my car while parked at the university. For practical purposes, that basically means I cannot leave a gun in my car at all, because every day I drive (except Sunday) I spend most of the day parked at the university.

I am of the opinion that every human being has a fundamental right to self defense. That right is not granted to us by our government, but it is bestowed on us by our Creator, who made us in his image. It is as the founders described it in the Declaration of Independence:

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

God has granted each of us the right to Life, and, by extension, the right to protect that Life from those who would try to take it away. A gun is more than just a weapon. It is a symbol, representing my willingness and my ability to defend myself against those who would seek to harm me. A citizen with a gun is not a victim, waiting helplessly for police or government to come and save him. A citizen with a gun is an obstacle standing in the way of the person who is looking for a victim.

During the last hour, I have had the privilege of viewing the most spectacular display of the Aurora Borealis which I can ever recall. The impressiveness of this particular instance was not due so much to intricate variety of color, which characterizes most of the memorable sightings in my past experience, but rather sheer magnitude and motion. I wish to document the experience.

I presently live about twenty miles east of the city of Fairbanks, Alaska, residing in a small cabin on the edge of my parent's property. At approximately 1:00 am tonight (April 5, 2010, AKST) I had become very tired after a long day of church, homework, and recreation, and I was ready to turn in for the day. I stepped out of my cabin for a brief breath of fresh air.

After stepping out, I was surprised because it seemed brighter out than when I had been outside only an hour or so before. I looked straight up, and a green ribbon was stretched from east to west across the star-studded sky, and it was bending in a slow rhythm, a little to the north, and then to south, and back again, curving like a snake. Very soon, splashing waves of pink began to race along the edge of this ribbon, contorting its path.

I went back inside my cabin to get a coat, and when I came back I saw a huge wave of green and pink coming along the horizon from the north. The wave began to form a distinct, but active, pattern of frequency, similar to what you might see looking at the screen of an oscilloscope, almost like the pattern of a recorded voice. Again, these patterns were racing across the sky, faster than I had ever seen during any of my previous sightings of the Aurora.

After a few minutes, these "signals" began to grow in size and intensity. I realized that the color in the north, as well as that directly overhead, was beginning to cover the majority of the sky. Sensing, remarkable as it seemed, that the best of the viewing was yet to come, I determined to walk to my parents' home and see if anyone else was awake. Upon arrival I found that my mother was awake, and I took the liberty of waking my sister.

After going back outside, we saw that the entire sky had been set aflame in a glorious blaze of green fire. At first, it looked more like patches of a neon thunder, flickering on and off in a synchronized chorus of light. But shortly, the direction of the moving light changed, so that it looked as though we were standing in the center of a bonfire, with the "flames" on all sides stretching up directly overhead.

Then the direction of the light seemed to change, and again the sky divided up into patches of green, flickering on and off. But these bursts of energy seemed to traveling in one direction, as though a blanket of green energy was rolling across the hemisphere.

Gradually, the motion slowed until the glow settled around the horizon. Then the remaining hue vanished, fading away like the final scene of an old movie.

I look forward tomorrow to getting the scientific explanation of this phenomenon, which will likely be a hot topic around Fairbanks. At the moment, however, my thoughts turn to its teleological significance. Why is it that God graced us with such an energetic display of the aurora tonight?

Doubtlessly, I will have some very pleasant meditation on the subject over the next few days. My working theory, however, is that God is a musician of sorts. Tonight, God's instrument of choice was the Aurora, and he put on a grand symphony, not of sound, but of light and energy. And humanity was audience. At least, those of humanity fortunate enough to be awake for the show.