Some people are better at dealing with the conflict than others, whether through denial or a well-developed, pragmatic knack for keeping things in perspective. Unfortunately, I don’t do denial at all and while I like to think of myself as having a strong pragmatic streak, in practice my principled side tends to dominate my decision-making in ways that occasionally deprive me of convenience and pleasure.

I know I have a problem here, and I know that I’m not the only one. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately and maybe writing some of this down will help. Maybe a reader will have a comment that will foster a bit more perspective, even. I may be a slightly older dog, but I am more than willing to learn some new tricks.

Let’s start with baseball. Yesterday was Opening Day for my hometown Colorado Rockies as well as my favorite team, the Boston Red Sox. Denver was just crazy. I live a few blocks from Coors Field, which was sold out (and friends tell me there weren’t even scalpers – no tix for sale at no price, no way, period). In addition to the 47K inside the park, there were probably another 50-100,000 outside, in the streets, parking lots and bars of the Ballpark neighborhood. I’m not sure, but I assume that the 16th Street Mall and Larimer Square were also zoos, as well as any number of sports bars in the city’s outlying neighborhoods and suburbs. In other words, yesterday was a massive holiday.

And I couldn’t take part. Sorta. I did wander up into LoHi, where Highlands Tap & Burger makes a point of showing all the Sox games. Had a beer. Had a great burger. Had a nice time. But it wasn’t the same as being part of a shared cultural celebration that looked, from a distance, even bigger than the 4th of July.

Why? Well, my friends know that the Rockies are my least favorite team. So do some strangers, if they’ve ever made the mistake of asking why I hate the Rox. The short version is that it’s a matter of principle: in 2006 the club went public with the news that it was basing official decisions (including personnel) on religion. Specifically, they were looking for “character,” and “character” means evangelical Christianity. I wrote about my feelings on the subject at the time and I revisited the issue a year later when the Rockies made it to the World Series.

Like the Constitution, I don’t really care what religion someone is. And since it’s a privately owned business, I guess there aren’t any de jure legal problems with them running things this way (although I imagine they’re wide open to a civil suit should someone in the organization feel discriminated against). But that doesn’t mean that I don’t find the policy reprehensible to its core.

Further, since I’m no longer an evangelical Christian myself, I can’t help being a little put off by the fact that the team’s ownership just said that I lack character. Trust me, I’m a huge fan of character. I think more teams ought to make character a centerpiece of how they run things. If you’ve been paying attention, you probably realize that teams with persistent character issues always seem to find a way to underperform their talent. And, as a guy who loves competition and has been an athlete his whole life, I’m sick of the sports section reading like a police blotter. I doubt I’m the only one.

I’ve never seen any correlation between religion and character, though. Evangelical Christians, for instance, can and often are people of the highest moral fiber, and I’m proud to number several such people among my family and circle of closest friends. But growing up Southern Baptist also teaches you that it ain’t necessarily so. Some of the worst sub-humans I have ever encountered in my life were upstanding evangelicals, pillars of the community, etc., and their moral failings and hypocrisies were quite well known in their congregations.

By the same token, I know and have known lots of atheists and agnostics, and my best guess is that the saint-to-scoundrel ratio is probably comparable to what you find in any religious community.

As a result of the Rockies’ policy, which I find both socially and personally offensive, I vowed that I’d never set foot in Coors Field or in any way subsidize the team’s ignorance and prejudice with my dollars. And I have held the line, too – literally, not a penny has made its way from my wallet to theirs. I revel in their failures (and especially loved the 2007 World Series, when my Sox waxed them in four straight) and long for the day when everyone associated with this policy is long, long gone.

But. There’s always a but. I’m admittedly conflicted. I love my city and I know that a successful franchise is good for it economically. It spurs civic pride (although here in Denver it would be okay if our civic pride were a little less connected to the fortunes of pro sports teams). Yesterday, by any measure imaginable, was wonderful for the 5280, and if the Rockies remain in the pennant race throughout the season it will mean greater job security for those who make their livings from the sports industry and the restaurants and bars that serve it. I care about these issues, and passionately.

Not only that, my principled stand, while morally satisfying, represents one more high wall between myself and my community. This chasm is never more evident than when I find myself discussing (debating, arguing) the subject with friends, who often feel as though my position amounts to an attack on them. (Ironically, they frequently seem more affronted by my stance than they are by Rockies policy itself, which they always find an easy way to dismiss, even if they aren’t evangelicals.)

By now, I hope it’s clear that my real problem isn’t with friends who disagree. My problem lies in my struggle to behave ethically without further alienating myself from others.

I’m not too proud to acknowledge how much this troubles me.

It isn’t just the Colorado Rockies, either – here in the US nearly every phase of our lives is challenged by some ethical or political consideration or another. Where do you buy groceries? Really – they’re pretty anti-union, aren’t they? You like coffee? I assume it’s organic and fair trade, right? You drive a what? Not only is it not a terribly green model, one of the company board members donates a lot of money to a variety of anti-gay rights organizations. Your electricity is generated in coal-fired plants, by the way. Your shirt was made in a sweat shop. Your computer is indeed nice, but it’s also the product of one of the country’s harshest chemical production cycles. Your kids attend a charter school? Thanks for helping suck more funds out of the public school system that’s so critical to our shared national interest. Sweet hell – are you wearing a diamond? Yeah, that restaurant does do a great bowl of pasta. And the owner has supported every hatemongering politician to run for office here in the last 30 years.

Been there. Feel your pain. I mean, I’ve turned my back on Target. I won’t be going back in a Dillard’s anytime soon. I haven’t had a Domino’s pizza in decades. Even if it didn’t taste like horse piss you’d never catch me drinking a Coors. And don’t even get me started on Wal*Mart (although they are implementing some encouraging green practices across the enterprise).

Seriously – if I drew a hard line around all of my principles and then did all the research I’d need to know which companies were doing what, and then boycotted those I had problems with, what would be left of my life? I probably couldn’t eat anymore. I’d have to walk everywhere (assuming I could verify that the company making my shoes was pure). The behavior of our media conglomerates would assure that I never again came near a television, a theater, a radio, a newspaper, and for that matter, probably a book. I’d certainly not be able to watch the NFL at least until such time as Michael Vick is gone (and given the rap sheets attending most football teams, we can probably scratch the whole sport off forever).

And so on. And on and on and on.

These are ugly issues to contemplate for an ethical human trying to live in contemporary society, because frankly you’re lucky if you can get through a minute, let alone a day, without having to compromise some important value or another. If there’s a Hell, and if it is operated according to meaningful principles, we’ve all probably earned our way in by noon each and every day.

Still, it isn’t okay to just throw up your hands and accept the inevitability of compromise. If I stop insisting that principles matter, if we stop trying to live as ethically as possible, what then? For one thing, the corruption of the society gets even worse (if that’s possible), and for another we might as well sell our souls to whoever will give us a nickel.

There are lines. There are standards that have to be at least a bit flexible. And if people like me insist on the absolute when all around us are finding ways of making peace with reality, we quickly wind up like Ethan Brand, the doomed anti-hero of the famous Hawthorne short story, staring into the fire and contemplating our intimate knowledge of the perfect sin: the rejection of the fellowship of man.

In the end, we have to find our way into subcultures that are themselves defined by the principles we value, so that our lives are not defined by a choice between values and community. This isn’t easily accomplished in a nation that often seems dedicated to the eradication of principle, but it is necessary.

As long as we feel the tension associated with a need to choose between the two, we will know that the battle isn’t yet over.

Writing at The Huffington Post, Campolo recently wrapped a distinctly theocratic idea in the language of apparent moderation and called it a compromise.

Let’s unwrap it and see what’s inside.

Campolo first offers a series of false premises:

President Bush once said that marriage is a sacred institution and should be reserved for the union of one man and one woman. If this is the case — and most Americans would agree with him on this — then I have to ask: Why is the government at all involved in marrying people? If marriage really is a sacred institution, then why is the government controlling it, especially in a nation that affirms separation of church and state?

Campolo suggests that because George W. Bush once said something, we should therefore treat it as true. And if we accept Bush’s truth, we should feel right about it because a popular majority is said to agree with him. Of course, just because a politician expresses a view on the sacred, that does not mean the view is either sacred or true. And we are left to wonder what strange thinking has gotten a hold of Campolo who identifies himself as both a Democrat and a liberal. (We find out all too soon.)

Quite independently, liberal columnist Leonard Pitts recently wrote about the meaning of polls showing that a majority of Americans now support same sex marriage. (What are we to make of the views of Bush and Campolo now? Is their notion of traditional marriage no longer sacred because a majority favors same sex marriage?) While Pitts is pleased with the progress, he averred:

“In extolling the fact that the majority now approves same sex marriage, do we not also tacitly accept the notion that the majority has the right to judge?”

Here in Massachusetts where the right of same sex couples to marry was first recognized by the state Supreme Judicial Court in 2003, the overwhelming majority of citizens opposed same sex marriage at the time. Now, the overwhelming majority supports it. What’s more major religious communities such as Unitarian Universalism and Reform Judaism before the decision, and the United Church of Christ — the largest protestant denomination in the Bay State — since the decision, view same sex marriage as sacred as heterosexual marriage. Majority or minority view — shall Campolo and Bush’s sense of the sacred trump what is sacred to such historic religious communities as these? Or should each religious organization be able to decide this for itself?

Pitts continued:

One shudders to think what sort of nation this would be if Lyndon Johnson, before signing the Civil Rights Act of 1964 or the Voting Rights Act of 1965, had first taken a poll of the American people.

We tend to regard America, proudly, as a nation where human rights are given. But that stance is actually at odds with the formulation famously propounded by one of the first Americans. Thomas Jefferson, who, after all, wrote that human rights are “unalienable” and that we are endowed with them from birth.

If you believe that, then you cannot buy into this notion of a nation where rights are magnanimously doled out to the minority on a timetable of the majority’s choosing. You and I cannot “give” rights. We can only acknowledge, respect and defend the rights human beings are born with.

Campolo continues:

Personally, as a Baptist minister, I always feel a bit uneasy at the end of the weddings that I perform when I have to say, “And now, by the authority given unto me by the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, I pronounce you husband and wife.” Having performed a variety of religious exercises, such as reading scripture, saying prayers, giving a biblically-based homily and pronouncing blessings on the marriage, why am I required to suddenly shift to being an agent of the state? Doesn’t it seem inconsistent that during such a highly religious ceremony, I should have to turn the church into a place where government business is conducted? Isn’t it a conflict for me to unify my pastoral role with that of an agent of the state?

This is a strawman argument in the form of a rhetorical question. Campolo is not required to serve as an agent of the state. Nor is he required to merge his religious ceremonial duties with legal officiating. That is his choice. But he nevertheless has a solution for the problem that does not exist.

I propose that the government should get out of the business of marrying people and, instead, only give legal status to civil unions. The government should do this for both gay couples and straight couples, and leave marriage in the hands of the church and other religious entities. That’s the way it works in Holland. If a couple wants to be united in the eyes of the law, whether gay or straight, the couple goes down to the city hall and legally registers, securing all the rights and privileges a couple has under Dutch law. Then, if the couple wants the relationship blessed — to be married — they goes to a church, synagogue or other house of worship. Marriage should be viewed as an institution ordained by God and should be out of the control of the state.

But of course, this is the way it is in America as well — except we call it marriage whether one gets married by a clergyperson or by the Justice of the Peace. There is no reason why people can’t have a religious service if they want one and legal process before a Justice of the Peace or other designated official. (Unless, as in most states, said people happen to be gay.)

Back at the beginning of his essay, Campolo asked a rhetorical question that now bears answering.

If marriage really is a sacred institution, then why is the government controlling it, especially in a nation that affirms separation of church and state?

Campolo’s demagogic, tea-partyesque appeal to the idea that “government” is somehow “controlling” a “sacred institution” is reckless and wrong. State governments, representing all of the people, and not merely sectarian interests, have always issued marriage licenses. Marriage is “sacred” only to the extent that people within the marriage and the community to which they belong consider it to be so. No religious institution or coalition of the theocratic gets to define the sacred for the rest of the citizens and make it part of the legal code.

The way we define the sacred in America is as a right of individual conscience that is protected by our constitutional doctrine of separation of church and state. We have the right to marry whom we choose in whatever ceremony we choose from any institution that will have us, or no institution at all. No institution is required to preside over weddings, gay or strait, and I have heard no one argue that they should be required to do so. Really. All that is required is for those who are marring each other, to get a marriage license. Extending this right to gay people is consistent with our national ethos and constitutional framework of the rights of conscience free from undue influence from the government or powerful religious institutions.

If Campolo is uncomfortable functioning as a legal officiator and signer marriage licenses — all he has to do is tell people that is not his department and send them to the Justice of the Peace.

Campolo continues:

Of course, homosexual couples could go to churches that welcome and affirm gay marriages and get their unions blessed there. Isn’t that the way it should be in a nation that guarantees people the right to promote religion according to their personal convictions?

If such a proposal became normative, those like myself who hold to traditional beliefs about marriage would go to traditional churches where conservative beliefs about marriage are upheld, and we would have our marriages blessed there.

Of course, people can already attend the church of their choice and Campolo’s proposal does nothing to change that. But all this a a prelude to the theocratic idea behind his supposed compromise which he expresses with a remarkable spirit of bigotry against non-religious people.

And secularists who are unlikely to do anything that smacks of religion would probably just throw a party to celebrate a new union. Marriage would be preserved as a religious institution for all of us who want to view it as such, and nobody’s personal convictions about this highly charged issue would have to be compromised.

Listen to Campolo as he sneers about what “secularists” would “probably” do. As if commitment ceremonies by non-religious people are inherently meaningless and lack any form of reverence or solemnity; or as if expressions of exuberance and joy cannot be part of a marriage or commitment event. And good grief — as if people who get married in religious ceremonies don’t also sometimes party — and sometimes mighty hard. Campolo’s bigotry and sanctimony may be less obnoxious than Falwell’s and his participation in the campaign to tear down the wall of separation between church and state less obvious, but we should not mistake any of this for moderation or compromise.

Another key phrase, in which he rephrases the theme of his proposal is this:

Marriage would be preserved as a religious institution for all of us who want to view it as such…

Here he suggests that something about marriage is being changed when it is not. Marriage has always been a civil institution in America. It has always been a religious institution as well, for those who are religious. But these aspects of the institution of marriage are as separate as church and state should be. The law does not require religious blessing to be legal, and marriage in a particular religious institution does not require legal sanction to take place — but at some point a marriage license needs to be obtained from the state. It ain’t rocket science. Those who want their marriage to have a religious dimension can do so. Those who don’t, don’t.

But what is important to underscore about The Campolo Compromise is that it is not really about gay marriage. It is a fundamental reframing of the entire argument into a theocratic stalking horse against the rights of non-religious citizens.

Campolo proposes a two-tiered system: For religious people, commitment ceremonies will be called marriage; for everyone else, something else. As insulting and politically tone deaf as this is, it is also unlikely to pass constitutional muster. Here is what happened when traditionalist pols proposed that the Massachusetts high court consider a compromise. The State Senate asked the state’s highest court whether civil unions would be an adequate way to address the matter of same sex marriage. The court said no.

“…the Supreme Judicial Court advised on February 4, 2004, that “civil unions” would not suffice to satisfy the Court’s finding in Goodridge. The 4 justices who formed the majority in the Goodridge decision wrote: “The dissimilitude between the terms ‘civil marriage’ and ‘civil union’ is not innocuous; it is a considered choice of language that reflects a demonstrable assigning of same-sex, largely homosexual, couples to second-class status.” They continued: “For no rational reason the marriage laws of the Commonwealth discriminate against a defined class; no amount of tinkering with language will eradicate that stain.”

Indeed.

[Crossposted from Talk to Action]