Another one worth reblogging. This is one of the most balanced views I’ve seen in the same-sex marriage debate, though I’m sure there are people on both sides of the issue who will have a problem with what Beth wrote here. Do all of us a favour and read the whole thing, several times, before you start writing scathing comments.
And while this specifically pertains to recent legal developments in the US, I think the arguments here apply to any free democratic country, including mine.
With the DOMA decision hot off the presses this week, my Facebook news feed has been fascinating. I just sit and watch the screen refresh with anticipation; waiting for the gloves to come off.
One minute: OMGRAINBOWTEARSOFJOY.
The next: OMGWORLDCRASHINGDOWN.
And about every half hour: Something about Jesus, churches or the Bible, and how they feel about “The Gays” getting married.
As an Orthodox Christian, I view marriage [which my Church defines as being a physical and spiritual union between a man and a woman] as a Sacrament. Something spiritual and supernatural happens during a wedding for an Orthodox Christian: Christ is the Celebrant, He joins the couple together. And in a Mystery, they become one person. Because of this, sex is meant for marriage because it is a participation in that oneness. It is meant to be experienced within the context. So, taken together: having a wedding…
Today is Youth Day in South Africa. It’s the day we remember the Soweto uprisings of 16 June 1976.
I’m not going to bore you with all the history, but in short on that day black high school students took to the streets to protest against a government policy which would have forced them to do receive half their schooling in Afrikaans and half in English with them having no choice in the matter. There were several protest marches in the country with the biggest being in Soweto, Johannesburg where between ten and twenty thousand learners took part.
The protest was initially peaceful. Accounts differ on who started hostilities, but at some point the police fired teargas to disperse the crowd while some of the students started throwing stones at the police who were blocking their intended route. Then the police started firing into the crowd, injuring hundreds. There’s also a lack of agreement on the death toll, with official numbers at the time stating 23, wikipedia saying 176 and a government website claiming as many as 700.
The iconic image by Sam Nzima showing Hector Pieterson, one of the first children to die that day, being carried to safety by Mbuyisa Makhubo, Hector’s sister, Antoinette Sithole, running beside them.
What is agreed is that unarmed children were shot down by police during a peaceful protest. News of the massacre sent shockwaves through the international community and it is commonly hailed as the turning point of the freedom struggle in South Africa.
In 1994, when the ANC came into power, 16 June was declared a national holiday, named Youth Day, to commemorate the lives of the children who died that day and also to honour all youth who had a part in the freedom struggle.
These days that isn’t happening. Nowadays Youth Day seems nothing more than an excuse for a party. Youth Day celebrations are held across the country every year at a cost of millions of rands. Celebrities are flown in, international artists perform, and a bunch of politicians and businessmen sit in the front rows where all the cameras can see them. Some minister or other high-up will give a moving speech about the sacrifices of the youth in the struggle, possibly mentioning Hector Pieterson and Nelson Mandela for good measure, but the rest of the event will be one extravagant bash.
And that, I think, is nothing but an insult to the memory of the kids that died that day. 23, or 176, or 700 kids dying is nothing to celebrate. Not even in the context of South Africa being free today is their deaths a reason for a party.
So, no. I will not be celebrating Youth Day and I won’t be attending any Youth Day celebrations. And it’s not because I’m anti-ANC, or don’t accept my country’s history, or white. It’s because I believe we can better honour the memories of those children by remembering their sacrifice, by saying a prayer for their still-grieving families, and by teaching today’s children about the price that had to be paid so that they can today be free.
if all else fails...use a hammer 