IGF CultureWatch

After Roll Call broke the story on Monday that Republican anti-gay Sen. Larry Craig of Idaho had pled guilty to misdemeanor lewd conduct in a Minneapolis airport men's room, leading conservatives were quick to throw him overboard.

At townhall.com, Hugh Hewitt rejected Craig's denials and called for his immediate resignation. "I realize," Hewitt said, "that I did not say this about Senator [David] Vitter [R-La., who apologized in July for 'a very serious sin in my past' after his telephone number appeared on the client list of the so-called 'D.C. Madam'], but Craig's behavior is so reckless and repulsive that an immediate exit is required." On Tuesday morning, the group bloggers at National Review Online (NRO) were quick with the wisecracks. John Podhoretz said, "Couldn't Craig just have called an escort service? Oh ... wait ...." Jonah Goldberg made fun of Craig's spokesman for describing the men's room arrest as a "he said/he said misunderstanding," and suggested alternate denials like, "This is all a terrible misunderstanding. The Senator is a bus station man."

Matt Foreman, Executive Director of the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force, used the occasion as a teaching moment. After slamming Craig's hypocrisy, he said, "There is sad irony that a United States senator from Idaho has been caught up in the same kind of thing that destroyed the lives of dozens of men in Boise in the 1950s, so tragically chronicled in 'Boys of Boise.'"

What strikes me as I watch Craig's denials is the depth of his self-deception, which apparently goes back at least to 1982 when he served in the House of Representatives. That year, he proposed to the then-Suzanne Scott six months after he responded to a scandal by publicly denying having had sex with congressional pages. Craig's arrest in June of this year, just eight months after denying gay sex charges by Mike Rogers of blogactive.com, suggests a recklessness all too familiar in the closeted and powerful.

A classic consequence of self-repression is that one's underlying nature, being unchanged, inevitably bursts out in inappropriate ways. It is no surprise that Craig would resort to sleazy restroom sex, since he is unwilling to see homosexuality in a more favorable light. As Matt Foreman observes, this is pathetic. It reminds me of Pinocchio, the wooden puppet who believes that if he prays hard enough, the Blue Fairy will make him into a real boy. Craig's own denials hint at the fairy-tale connection: twice during a contentious interview with the Idaho Statesman, he exclaimed, "Jiminy!"

Fate stepped in, as Jiminy Cricket would say, but not in the way Sen. Craig might have wished. On Aug. 27, the same day that Craig was definitively outed, another kind of conservative - prominent Washington pundit Andrew Sullivan - married his partner Aaron Tone in Provincetown. Here we have a nice juxtaposition: On one hand, a man who has consistently opposed any legal protections for gay citizens even as he engaged in furtive gay sex in restrooms. On the other hand, a self-affirming gay man who has advocated marriage equality for nearly two decades. The gods have a fine sense of irony.

We are witnessing a cultural shift: Henceforth, the Washington establishment will have in its midst a living exemplar of same-sex marriage, which just by refusing to hide will be a continual rebuke of the slander that only straight people are family. It is precisely because the public institution of marriage confers respectability and makes our relationships harder to dismiss that homophobes have sought so strenuously to cut gay couples out of the Constitution.

To be sure, cultural change does not automatically translate into victory at the polls. The latter, as Congressman Barney Frank likes to remind us, requires organizing and persuading and getting out the vote. There are still millions of Americans who would prefer that their gay children suppress their desires and choose an opposite-sex spouse. People in denial like Craig are surrounded by enablers. We may be at a turning point, but our struggle is far from over.

On another off note, this week's famous groom has made his share of enemies. But the attacks against him from left and right have been going on for years, and Andrew Sullivan is still standing. A quick search of the blogs this week turns up catty comments, salacious rumors, and entries like "Did you see the pic Aaron painted of Andrew's bottom?" I personally prefer the picture Andrew himself posted of the handsome, bearded Aaron asleep on a sofa with their two beagles.

The glare of the spotlight can be hard on any relationship, and even the most obscure of marriages can fail (though I happily note that the divorce rate is lower in Massachusetts than in the Bible Belt). Failure is a risk that we take whenever we set sail. Of course, Andrew would have to work overtime to catch up with the multiple marriages of various anti-gay politicians. All that really matters is that he and Aaron have taken the leap together.

A real marriage is not a Disney fantasy. We are not carried along by fate. We are responsible people capable of summoning forgiveness and generosity and humility to overcome our baser instincts. Like any worthy enterprise, a marriage takes devoted effort. So here's wishing Andrew and Aaron perseverance and grace to help them through the inevitable rough spots.

As for Larry Craig, whose career lies in ruins: Notwithstanding his contemptible coupling of squalid gay encounters with opposition to gay rights, he is more pitiful than anything else. In the end, the greatest victim of his lies is himself.

As you probably already know, on August 11 a churchwide assembly of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) approved by a vote of 528 to 431 a resolution that "prays, urges, and encourages" its bishops to refrain from disciplining gay and lesbian clergy known to be in same-sex relationships.

The resolution did not prohibit anti-gay bishops from bringing disciplinary action against clergy in gay relationships, but it gives more or less official permission to gay-supportive bishops who decline to discipline gay clergy to continue what many have already been doing for several years. And it surely sends a signal to bishops who may be uncertain or undecided about what action to take in such cases.

The ostensible reason for the resolution was that a church task force is involved in producing a long-delayed "social statement" on human sexuality and the resolution merely urges bishops not to take any action until the statement is issued in 2009. It is possible that there may have been signals from within the task force that it would recommend a more permissive policy. Certainly if no change were anticipated, the resolution would not have any point. But it is also possible that the resolution was meant as a signal to the task force by church leaders about what direction to take.

This is obviously a step forward for the Lutherans and in a way for all mainstream Protestants. It signals a shift in sentiment by clergy and church leaders in favor of non-celibate gay clergy. But it may not be immediately obvious just how remarkable a resolution this is. Consider several implications.

One was pointed out by the Rev. Bradley Schmeling, a pastor who was recently defrocked after telling his congregation and bishop that he is in a gay relationship. Schmeling told the New York Times, "For the first time, the church is saying that there are partnered gay and lesbian pastors who are serving faithfully and well in our church." True enough, and apparently his congregation agrees because they plan to keep him as their pastor anyway, frock or no frock.

In addition the resolution places the ELCA in the position of embracing some apparent contradictions. For one thing it says that formal church policy forbids sexually active gay clergy, but bishops can cheerfully ignore church policy if they like.

For another, the resolution applies only to gays and lesbians who are already ordained clergy; it does not apply to sexually active gay seminarians who wish to be ordained. No doubt some bishops will take the resolution as not forbidding the ordination of gay applicants, but technically the resolution says if you are already a pastor in a gay relationship you can stay, but if you are not yet a pastor we won't let you in.

This is not an unusual way for large organizations to make policy changes. You plant a contradiction or a new line of thinking somewhere in the system and wait for it to be formally taken account of sometime in the future when conditions are favorable for change. Nor is the technique unknown among Supreme Court justices.

The resolution certainly takes the long view. Every year public opinion about gays and the legitimacy of gay sexuality moves an average of one-half to one percent in a pro-gay direction. Nor are Lutheran church leaders immune to experiencing those changes themselves. So with every year that passes, the chances for a gay-affirmative position improve.

Underneath the conflict between pro- and anti-gay positions, the church is having to decide between Jesus and the Apostle Paul. Jesus as he is presented in the four gospels issued no condemnation of homosexuality although he was eloquent in his condemnation of some other behavior. In addition he often revised, corrected and disobeyed ancient Jewish law.

By contrast, Paul never met Jesus, never heard him preach, didn't know his teachings, and had no knowledge of the gospels (which had not been written yet). The only aspect of Jesus Paul cared about was his supposed resurrection which as a Pharisee he was predisposed to believe anyway. So with his rabbinical training in the early Hebrew texts, he often harkened back to the Hebrew moral codes, including their condemnation of homosexuality, and added them back into early Christianity.

Whether the Lutherans consciously recognize the conflict in these terms or not, they seem to have some sense of what the fundamental issue is. The New York Times quoted Emily Eastwood, head of the gay-supportive Lutherans Concerned, as saying, "The dam of discrimination has been broken. ... The church is on the road to acceptance."

It seemed like a softball question at first. During LOGO's August 10 gay-rights forum for the Democratic presidential candidates, panelist (and rock star) Melissa Etheridge asked New Mexico Gov. Bill Richardson, "Do you think homosexuality is a choice, or is it biological?"

Richardson, who has a strong gay-rights record, responded, "It's a choice. It's…"

Several audience members gasped. Wrong answer! Etheridge interrupted, "I don't think you understand the question," prompting nervous laughter throughout the studio. She tried again:

"Do you think I-a homosexual is born that way, or do you think that around seventh grade we go, 'Ooh, I want to be gay'?"

"Seventh grade" is right: at that moment Etheridge seemed like an indulgent schoolteacher, trying to feed a quiz answer to a hapless student. Multiple-choice: A or B (hint: it's obviously not B).

Richardson missed the hint. Instead, he rambled:

"Well, I-I'm not a scientist. It's-you know, I don't see this as an issue of science or definition. I see gays and lesbians as people as a matter of human decency. I see it as a matter of love and companionship and people loving each other. I don't like to, like, answer definitions like that that, you know, perhaps are grounded in science or something else that I don't understand."

Audience reaction, and the subsequent commentary, all suggested that Richardson's response was a disaster. One editorial referred to it as his "macaca moment" (recalling Virginia Senator's George Allen's fatal use of that slur during his last campaign).

Richardson should have been prepared for this: Bob Schieffer asked the same question during the 2004 presidential debates, prompting Bush to respond "I don't know" and Kerry to give his infamous "Mary Cheney is a lesbian" answer. Why do smart people stumble over what seems to be a simple question?

Let me hazard a guess: because it's not a simple question. In fact, it's a confused question.

Take Etheridge's first formulation: "Do you think homosexuality is a choice, or is it biological?" The question actually jumbles together two distinct issues:

(1) How do people become gay? (By genetics? Early environment? Some combination of the above?)

and

(2) Can they change it (i.e. choose to be otherwise)?

The answers to these two questions vary independently. My hair color is biologically determined, but I can change it. The fact that my native language is English is environmentally determined, but I can't change it. (Of course I could learn a new language, but given my age it would never totally subsume my native language.) The point is that a trait's being acquired doesn't mean it isn't deep.

Etheridge's revised version makes the false dilemma even starker: either we're born this way, or else it's an arbitrary whim- "Ooh, I want to be gay." Since it's obviously not a whim, we're supposed to conclude that we're born this way.

"Born this way" is a virtual article of faith among gays. Call me a heretic, but I neither know nor care whether I was born this way. I don't remember the way the world was when I was born (neither do you), and I can't discern my genetic makeup by simple introspection (ditto).

What I do know is that I've had these feelings a long time, and they're a significant part of who I am. Whether I have them because of genetics, or early childhood influences, or some complex medley of factors is a question for scientists-not columnists, rock stars or politicians. In that respect, Richardson's profession of scientific ignorance was both modest and reasonable.

The question "Is it a choice or biological?" involves gross oversimplification. Homosexuality is both, and neither, depending on what one means.

Although we don't choose our romantic feelings, homosexuality (like heterosexuality) certainly involves choices-about whether and how and with whom to express those feelings. When Richardson said "it's a choice," he probably meant that we have the right to make such choices. Good for him.

At the same time, homosexuality (like heterosexuality) surely has biological underpinnings. We're flesh-and-blood creatures. At some level, everything about us is biological, regardless of what causal story about sexual orientation one accepts.

But don't we need to prove we're "born this way" to show that homosexuality is "natural"? Not at all. I wasn't born speaking English, or practicing religion, or writing columns-yet none of these is "unnatural" in any morally relevant sense.

I don't blame gays for being disappointed with Richardson's forum performance: he seemed unprepared and lethargic. But let's not insist that he embrace dogmas that should have no bearing on our rights. Whether or not we're "born this way," there's nothing wrong with our being this way. Thankfully, Richardson seems to get that.