Kim Davis vs. Sir Thomas More - How Now Shall We Disobey?

The latest battle in the gay marriage debate: I'm sure you know the story. Kim Davis is the county clerk in Rowan County, Kentucky. Since the Obergefell decision, she has refused to hand out any marriage permits to either gays or straights, nor to authorize her deputies to do the same. She's now been held in contempt of court and thrown in jail.

These confrontations have become more and more common as the American government begins to tackle the gay marriage issue. Post-Obergefell, there's no reason to imagine the numbers will go down. Kim Davis is merely an opening skirmish.

As per usual when these issues surface, my immediately appeal for guidance is to historical cases I admire. Above all, I think of my favorite meditation on religious freedom, the film A Man for All Seasons, which examines the conflict between personal conscience and obeying the government.

Sir Thomas More was chancellor of England when King Henry VIII decided to amend the law, dissolve his own marriage, separate from the church of Rome, and declare himself lord over the newly-established Anglican church. More - a devout Catholic - heartily objected to the king's decision, but was aware of the danger of saying so. Instead, he resigned his post.

A Tale of Two Thomases: Wolf Hall vs. A Man for All Seasons

It’s 1535. The prison is shrouded in deep shadow; only a thin white light illumines the fierce human drama taking place within its stone walls. Weak from long imprisonment, Sir Thomas More gazes fixedly at his cruel-faced inquisitor, Thomas Cromwell. They’re sizing each other up, pondering, deliberating, performing a dozen separate mental calculations. It's a meeting of great political minds, and neither will cave.

Fiction is like a mirror of society. If we are to know what a generation feels, we must look at its stories, its narratives, its fantasies. And it's difficult to think of a better example than the way the story of Thomas More and Thomas Cromwell has evolved over the years.

Within the last half-century, both have been the subject of wildly popular biopics. The first, 1966 film A Man for All Seasons, scooped up six Oscars and five BAFTAs. The other, 2014 miniseries Wolf Hall (based on the novel by Hilary Mantel), arrived amidst a flurry of critical applause, and will probably accomplish similar feats once awards season rolls around. Obviously, there's something about these two historical figures that captivates us.

Silence - The Cruelty of Tolerance

I’ve never met Brendan Eich. I really don’t know much about him, except that he is now without a job. I'd assume, since he was formerly a CEO, that he’s not living on the street. But it may not be long, given that the marketplace is now hostile to those who disagree with American cultural mores. A question. Where, exactly, is it okay for Mr. Eich to be employed? The local 7/11? A small private business never visited by the self-proclaimed tolerance police?

Let me start off by quoting this excellent piece over at Kevin DeYoung's blog, speaking about society's acceptance of same-sex relationships:

The problem is that our ascendant moral logic amounts to an imposition: affirm me or else. It used to be that tolerance meant granting to your intellectual, political, or religious opponents the right to be wrong (as you see the wrong). Now tolerance means the freedom, if not the obligation, to utterly shame those you deem intolerant. Ours is a supremely moralistic age. I would call it puritanical, except I don’t want to insult the Puritans.... 

There is no conversation any longer, just condescension. No acceptance of diverse viewpoints, just personal obliteration for anyone who dares to question Oceania’s Ministry of Truth. The talking heads and the purveyor’s of cultural correctness don’t feel the need to make arguments anymore. They don’t feel the need to listen either. After all, who can refute a sneer? 

No need to prove your dogma when stigma will do.