Ambiguity muddies the waters

As a recent Calvin grad, I have been following the debate on homosexuality with interest. Let's thank God that the Calvin community is addressing this issue with discussion, instead of aggression.

Last week's edition of Chimes contained an article by Klaas Hoekema supporting ``Ribbon Week.'' Mr. Hoekema claimed that Ribbon Week is about fostering love and acceptance toward homosexuals, instead of moral judgment about homosexual issues. He said the organizers of Ribbon Week ``made a positive choice to remove these (moral) issues from the immediate discussion.'' Was this a positive choice? It seems like the love and acceptance that we all should show homosexuals cannot be separated from moral issues. For example, some people think that it is loving to directly warn andadmonish homosexuals that they are going to hell. While we may agree that this is most likely not a loving act, my point is that your moral stance on homosexuality will impact how you show love and acceptance. The organizers of Ribbon Week only muddy the waters by trying to separate moral issues from love and acceptance. Perhaps they should focus on how people with different viewpoints on homosexuality can agree on what love and acceptance for homosexuals really means.

There is another reason why the ambiguity of Ribbon Week is not helpful. The homosexual movement in the United States has a track record of requesting ``acceptance'' for homosexual persons, then equating ``acceptance'' with ``tolerance'' of any and every behavior. Groups that support pedophilia are notorious for using this rhetoric; thus the organizers of Ribbon Week do themselves a disservice by traveling down this path that has been known to have a slippery slope, without telling anyone where they are going. In this same vein, I question the wisdom of using lavender ribbons, since this same color is closely connected with the radical gay rights movement in the United States.

I believe that the organizers of Ribbon Week have good intentions, but in my experience, many people who desire to show support for homosexuals are confused about the thinking behind Ribbon Week. Confusion easily breeds suspicion and hatred. By fostering ambiguity, the organizers of Ribbon Week may not be contributing to the love and acceptance of homosexuals that is so badly needed.

Steve Michmerhuizen, '99

Letter response unusual

This is in responses to the letters in last week's chimes. I have ``struggled'' with homosexuality for about ten years. Laura's unusual response was soothing. My normal defensiveness subsided as I read her words.

Dave's statement of the obvious was so typical he could have signed it ``Friend in Christ.'' The contrast of Dave's letter after Laura's couldn't have been more ironic. He gave me no credit for thinking, or for being a Christian. I've heard the ``love the sinner, hate the sin'' bit. Why is my sin the primary concern? I'm not in a relationship, I've never been drunk, I don't hang half naked people on my wall, I'm so prudish that I barely enjoy life. I am still dealing with the fact that my future will probably be alone. When I was younger I thought that it was my Christian duty to commit suicide. It is so easy to say: ``Just be a celibate.'' Unfortunately Dave's response makes me care less about how I live. People like Laura allow me to relax so much so that I don't have to worry about being alone. I don't mess up her morality, not because she doesn't have ideologies, but because we are conversing and sharing, we are humans, and for that moment I don't think about my loneliness and pain. On the other hand, my gut reaction to Dave's response is a deeper sense of loneliness, alienation and guilt (that I have messed up his morality), which only drives the desire for ``sinful relationships'' deeper.

I have often wondered what we are fighting. This obsession with the trivial is not only found here. This issue is a mirror of how many people of the church handle situations, or should I say, ``don't handle.'' It is amazing; men and women in the secular environment of the military can face unbelievable odds, challenges, enemies and weapons. We can't even face each other. They choose to support each other in order to strive toward one goal. We don't have to support each other, because we all have different goals. We are not marked by the characteristics of unity or community. We are found in a stupor of individuality, preference and comfort. To be true to ourselves, we can only loosely call ourselves the community of Christ. Held together by some ``equivocal and ambiguous'' thread of love.

Is it so difficult to share in struggles, to strive towards one goal, or to get down from our righteousness and fear? Yes, I suppose it is, because we don't.

Name withheld

Appel not consistent

Clothes convey meaning, as the recent opinion editorial by Jeff Appel implies at several points. So I don't think the author is consistent in suggesting that the Lord doesn't care what you wear, and neither should anyone else at church. I agree that church is not a place for imposing sartorial conformity, or for competitive personal display, but what do you want to convey by what you wear there? And might not your garb be different in a house of worship than in the garden or in bed? 

 I don't usually give a lot of thought to what I wear, but on Sundays, I think of what my Dad told me long ago. He was a blue-collar guy at the time, working for the phone company. What he said was, ``Sunday is special; don't wear your work clothes to church.'' For him, that meant putting on a suit and tie, or in the summer, when it was pretty close in the sanctuary, at least suit pants and a white shirt. At our Baptist church home, most men were farmers, factory workers or service workers, and suits and ties abounded on Sundays. 

 Carrying that principle into my own life and church home, however, means that since I wear a tie to work, I never wear one to church. I'm on the Lord's time, not company time, on Sunday.  So I don't wear my work clothes.

Joel Carpenter 

Provost