Category Archives: Marriage

Same-Sex Marriage: Lessons in Conscience

At first glance, there’s nothing impressive about Laura Fotusky. Her soft, middle-aged figure, unremarkable cardigan, and dark, ‘80s-style hair capture the plain ordinariness of small-town America.

Nothing chic or trendy here.

But Laura grabbed headlines recently, standing tall to answer the call of conscience against the power of law. She resigned from her job as Barker Town Clerk, a position that would require her to issue marriage licenses to gays and lesbians once the newly passed “Marriage Equality Act” becomes New York law on July 24.

Why resign from a fulfilling job when unemployment tops nine percent?

Conscience.

That’s the same word that gay advocates pulled out to laud New York State Senator Mark Grisanti, a Republican from Buffalo, for his balance-tipping vote in favor of homosexual marriage. He too earned headlines, as homosexual activists across the country hailed him as a “hero” for “voting his conscience.”

Only thirty-five miles apart geographically, Laura Fotusky and Mark Grisanti stand worlds apart on the meaning of conscience. The contrast between them is itself a powerful lesson.

Conscience means more than ‘what I think is right.’ Conscience is “a way of obedience to objective truth.” So taught the brilliant, and saintly, intellectual— Cardinal John Henry Newman.

Clerk Fotusky searched for truth by looking upwards, to the Truth-giver. She read His Book and bowed to its authority“[T]here is a higher law than the law of the land,” she said. “It is the law of God in the Bible…The Bible clearly teaches that God created marriage between male and female.”

Politician Grisanti sought truth by scanning left and right on the political horizon. He looked right as he wooed Christian churches, particularly African-American ones, campaigning on the promise that he was unalterably opposed to gay marriage.” (See his 2008 letter here.)

Post-election, he looked left, bending a listening ear towards LGBT lobbyists and fielding pro-gay calls from Governor Cuomo and tweets from Lady Gaga.

Finally, Grisanti sought the truth about same-sex marriage by looking inward, to his “personal belief” (a temptation Pope Benedict once described as “self-sufficient subjectivity”). Before, Grisanti said, “I simply opposed it [same-sex marriage] in the Catholic sense of my upbringing.” But now, for this pressure-filled vote on same-sex marriage, Grisanti announced he would seek truth by relying on “reason” bereft of faith.

And so, like the politician who peels off his suit coat when it’s time to “get real,” Grisanti peeled off his faith to gay applause because it was time to “take the Catholic out of me.”

Wrong move, for any serious seeker of truth.

Newman insisted, according to Pope Benedict XVI, that, “freedom of conscience” does not mean “the right…’to ignore a Lawgiver and Judge.’” Put differently, one who seeks truth in good conscience cannot ignore God, who is Truth.

When Grisanti closed his eyes to God’s truth, he stumbled into a blind alley, hopelessly lost. Defending his decision to support same-sex marriage, Grisanti asked, “Who am I to say that someone does not have the same rights that I have with my wife, who I love…?”

In his moral myopia, marriage looks like a fuzzy framework that honors his loving feelings for his wife. But marriage bestows rights not because of the couple’s feelings but because their sexual union as male and female, unlike the sexual activity of two males or two females, quite naturally produces children–children who need the stable union of their own mother and father, a commitment secured by marriage.

What about our other truth-seeker, Laura Fotusky?

For her, ignoring God was never an option. Her search for truth brought her face-to-face with Him.  And she found her answer.

“Since I love and follow Him, I cannot put my signature on something that is against God…I would be compromising my moral conscience if I participated in the licensing procedure.”

With no option but to “choose between my God and my job,” she resigned.

For her faithfulness, she’s been rewarded with sneers from the liberal elites. The Daily Beast, eschewing the respectful convention of capitalizing God’s name, smirked that, “maybe god wanted her to be unemployed?”

No matter. Laura’s courage and clarity of conscience don’t depend on others’ approval, only God’s. And she’s not alone. Other officials, like Supervisor Karl Brabenec of Deer Park (a Catholic), have resigned as well, citing conscience.

And Grisanti? Political expediency labeled “conscience” has proven quite profitable. Days after his vote for same-sex marriage, Grisanti’s re-election campaign received over $50,000 in donations from national advocates of gay rights, including $10,000 each from New York Mayor Bloomberg and Tim Gill (the financial engine driving the same-sex marriage train).  And while Republicans aren’t happy with Grisanti, one journalist reported that, “Democratic party regulars are chasing Grisanti like hormonal tweens chasing Justin Bieber at the airport.”

Life seems good for Mark Grisanti.  When he looks in the mirror, he feels “wiser today” than “yesterday.”

But life’s even better for Laura Fotusky. She says, “I’ve made my choice, and no one means to me what Jesus means.”

And in the end, conscience is not about pleasing the person we see in the mirror.

It’s about pleasing the Person we see for all eternity.

© 2011 Mary Rice Hasson

 

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Filed under Catholicism, Marriage, Policy and Culture, Relationships

Sudden Death. Life Perfectly Timed.

Mary Hamann

Sudden death.

The loss of a beloved friend, without warning, rips a gaping hole in the memory-rich fabric of life.

Mary Murphy Hamann, my college roommate, longtime friend, and one of the most cheerful people I’ve ever met, died on Good Friday in a remote village in Paraguay.

Her plan? To attend her daughter’s wedding there and meet the Paraguayan in-laws. But God planned otherwise.  Mary hemorrhaged unexpectedly from a hidden, life-threatening tumor, just one day before her daughter’s wedding.

Nothing could have saved her. Even if she’d been stateside, the end result would have been the same.  Her close-knit family–husband, four adult children, seven surviving siblings, in-laws, and dozens of nieces and nephews–reeled from the blow, in shock and grief.

But the days that followed found them steadied by the mercy of God’s grace and the hope born of faith.

It was her time.

I remember once, thirty years earlier, when Mary told me, “It’s time.”

Only then it was “time” to marry her high school sweetheart, Mike—a decision that seemed as ill-timed (to others) as her death now thirty years later.

Just 19 when Mike slipped the engagement ring on her finger, Mary married at 20. No shotguns involved, just a young couple in love and ready to team up for life. “He’s the one,” Mary told me, “It’s time.”

So she married and left school, taking a job that would support them both while Mike spent his last two years at Notre Dame.

The young feminists in our dorm sizzled with outrage. Clearly appalled, one driven engineer-to-be expressed her indignation—on Mary’s behalf–to me. “She’s got a 3.9! Why is she leaving school?  Why doesn’t he leave school so she can finish?”

Mary’s decision made no sense to the career-oriented, high-achievers of the 80’s. Forget the balancing act. Marriage and motherhood were obstacles to career success.

Some imagined a he-versus-she wrestling match over dominance and ambition, with Mary finally yielding.  Others carped that Mary’s conservative beliefs and traditional Catholicism must be at fault. “What a waste.” They lamented their friend’s all-but-certain future: talents undeveloped and opportunities lost, all sacrificed at the altar of marriage and motherhood.

Poor Mary.

“Poor Mary” never looked back.  Her sureness emerged from a prayerful heart intent on one question: ”What is the Lord’s will for me?”

The answer didn’t come instantly. She prayed for months, her rosary often slipping from her sleeping hand, down from her top bunk onto mine below. The Lourdes Grotto at Notre Dame held dozens of candle stubs lit by a young woman in search of God’s will. And her commitment to daily Mass—at noon or 5 pm—often meant the ultimate sacrifice for a college student: settling for the dregs of cafeteria food. Limp lettuce and rubbery burgers, at best. (One long-winded homily and she’d miss the meal entirely!)

God must have been tickled to see a young heart madly in love, but so willing to ask what He wanted. And Mary delighted in His answer—yes, marry Mike.

It was time.

More importantly, her question, “What’s your will for me, Lord?” wasn’t a one-timer.  It was the recurring theme of her life. (Mike’s life too, for that matter.)

And indeed, it’s interesting how life turned out.

Mary’s first job gave way to full-time motherhood, with one girl and three boys in quick succession. Unfazed by muddy feet and shoes gone AWOL, Mary’s contagious laughter bubbled over in daily life. As her peers got big jobs and even bigger signing bonuses, Mary changed diapers, hugged toddlers, and shrugged off thoughts of what-might-have-been.

Then, supplementing Mike’s teaching job, she resumed part-time work, often from home, with stints in copywriting, advertising, and political campaigns. In short order, resourcefulness paired with economic necessity and gave birth to a successful family business in marketing and communications.

Funny how God works.  As Mary followed the thread of God’s will, woven among family needs and life’s opportunities, her creative talents flourished, her professional skills sharpened, and her entrepreneurial spirit grew. She picked up the classes she needed, then came full circle, landing back at Notre Dame in a job she loved—Director of Communications in the Mendoza College of Business. For ten years, as her children moved into adulthood, she edited an award-winning magazine and played a central role in her husband’s successful entre into politics.

Even by feminist standards, it was a quality resume for a mom of four.

But her accomplishments aren’t the real story.

When Mary died, God didn’t read her obituary.  He read her heart.

That’s the story too easily missed. Her heart had grown more in love with Him over the years, not by adding up achievements but by asking that question, “What’s your will for me, Lord?”

It’s a question that I, for one, ought to ask more often.

Because that simple question—“What’s your will for me, Lord?”—purifies the heart. And our sincere (though surely imperfect) response to that question, over and over, defines a life well lived.

In hindsight, Mary’s life was not only well lived, but perfectly timed.

And so was her death. It was her time, because it was God’s time.  It’s the only way Mary would have wanted it.

© 2011  Mary Rice Hasson

 

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Filed under Catholicism, Faith and Virtue, Family, Lessons Learned, Marriage, Moms and Motherhood, Parenting, Prayer and Spirituality, Women

The Good Marriage: One Simple Secret

I couldn’t help but notice their chemistry.

Paul and Lynn were our unexpected dinner companions, joining our small group for a delicious seafood dinner. The meal was fabulous, truly, but not nearly as memorable as this delightful couple.

Their enviable relationship was the fruit of fifty years of marriage, some very hard times, and one secret—the secret, I discovered, that can make nearly every marriage better.

It’s been a tough year for marriage, in my world.

Four couples I care about are divorcing this year after 13, 17, 24, and 28 years together. Their backgrounds, hometowns, and stories all differ.  Some are parting for just cause; others for the excitement offered elsewhere. But twenty children (the combined total from the four families) now share a common, painful experience: lives turned upside down, families fractured, and hearts broken.

Recently I stumbled across an interview with writer Nora Ephron, a frank and usually funny woman.  But she spoke seriously about divorce: “There are a lot of people who get divorced and several years later they think, ‘Hmm, was I really that bored?’ …Don’t kid yourself that your kids are OK. The kids are really not alright. It doesn’t mean they don’t survive; it’s just, don’t kid yourself that kids like leaving one house to go to another. It’s not what they’re built for…. It’s tough for kids; it just is.”

Even when divorce is the right solution for an untenable situation, like abuse, it wounds not just the couple but the families and friends who love them both.

So my heart smiled within minutes of meeting this pair, Paul and Lynn. They glowed with love for each other—twinkled together, really–as Lynn shared their plans to celebrate fifty years of marriage with a ten-day cruise to Alaska.

When she spoke, his eyes shone with tenderness and crinkled in smiling delight.  He listened, really listened, when she talked. No glazed eyes or dismissive looks; no wavering attention or a wandering eye. He really wanted to hear what she was saying over dinner. No matter that they’d already shared some 17,000 dinner discussions. He was as attentive that night as if it were their first conversation.

And her face sparkled, with both youthful affection and mature love, as she talked about him, the life they had shared, and the years ahead. She enjoyed him, leaning forward to catch his soft-spoken words, touching him affectionately, and anticipating his needs before he did. It was unself-conscious and real.

But I was sure that it hadn’t come easy.

Over the years, I’ve mentored many women in marriage and motherhood and gratefully learned much from those who’ve mentored me.  I approached Lynn in that spirit as we mingled after dinner. Thinking of the pain in my friends’ relationships, I wondered, how do Paul and Lynn repair marital rifts that tear other marriages apart? What keeps love flickering and then roaring back to life when human weakness, failings, and sin threaten to smother it? What’s the secret to a marriage like theirs?

So I asked Lynn.  She paused, but only for a few seconds, and said.

“It’s simple, but it’s not easy…

“It’s what’s in your heart. You’ve got to LOVE each other. We’re happy because I do things for him and he does things for me. That’s what love means… I do things for him and he does things for me.”

It was how they lived their life: I do things for him and he does things for me.

As she talked, it became clear that the “things” they’ve done for one another were way beyond the “pick-up-his-socks” and “surprise-her-by doing-the dishes” things suggested in typical marriage columns. Their mutual “doing” carried them across parched deserts and through tumultuous rapids—past the dangerous places where marriages die. It was no easy feat.

They were married at 18, had four kids, moved many times, and endured years of penny-pinching.  At times, Paul worked two jobs and Lynn did double duty at home.  And when he was unemployed, she worked and he scrimped. They survived teenage turmoil without turning on each other and avoided the blame game for their money troubles.

This attitude of heart–I do things for him and he does things for me—was woven into the fabric of their life, carrying them through new trials even at later stages. With children launched, finances eased.  But life challenged them anew. A once in a lifetime business venture to secure their retirement carried high costs: a move to a different continent, selling everything and leaving adult kids and grandkids behind.

It tested them mightily. Lynn was miserable. She missed her family, friends, church, and the familiarity of life stateside. She wanted to leave. And Paul listened. She had come there for him and he’d move now for her. While leaving the country was not possible yet, moving within the city was. Lynn would choose. They moved from the city apartment that was perfect for Paul, close to work, to a village near the sea, where Lynn could create a home, find friends and a place to worship.  And two years later, they would return to the U.S., back to family and friends.

As in times past, their common pledge–that simple secret–kept them going. I do things for him and he does things for me.

“It takes work,” Lynn said. “If you’re gonna love each other, you’ve got to ask what the other person needs. And then give it.  You’re in this together. That’s why I say, I do things for him and he does things for me.”

Fifty years had stoked their passion and fifty years had burnt away selfishness. Deep inside their hearts, an everlasting ember gave off sparks of joy, delight, warmth, and affection at regular intervals. Theirs is a mutual love that says, I do things for him and he does things for me.

For me, I’ve learned a new shorthand for the theological truths of “mutual self-gift,” “sacrificial love,” and “finding fulfillment by giving yourself to another in love.”

“I do things for him and he does things for me.”

Much more memorable, don’t you think? And that’s the secret of a good marriage.

© 2010 Mary Rice Hasson

 

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Filed under Family, Lessons Learned, Marriage, Men, Relationships, Women