Same sex marriage and the not-a-plebiscite

Here in Australia, the government has asked its people to vote in a non-binding, non-compulsory postal survey on the question of whether the definition of marriage should be legally changed so as to permit same sex couples to form a legal union with the name "marriage".

I don't think the actual legal issue in question is a hugely important issue in and of itself (probably partly because of its low impact on me). However, because many people see it as part litmus test, part slippery slope, part political football, part personal attack, part culture war and just generally representative of much larger issues, I find myself feeling more strongly about it than I think it otherwise deserves (there are certainly much bigger fish to fry out there - a recent talk I heard about the plight of Aboriginal peoples highlighted a lot of issues that we as a nation should be dealing with!). But just because it's not the most important issue doesn't mean now is not a good time to deal with it. It has taken up a huge slice of Australia's public discussion pie over the last five years or more (at least five - I gave a sermon that touched on it five years ago, and this year was asked to preach on the same passage, and lo and behold it is still an issue). It presently makes up around 3-5% of my Facebook feed for whatever that's worth (lower than on a day where something triggers people to talk about it, about the same amount of posts as those about yesterday's Game of Thrones episode). I think 3% of my own personal media consumption is pretty big.

As someone who considers themselves fairly informed about the Australian political scene and who has tried to keep up with the numerous positions that float by, I feel like I have a reasonable coverage of the broad issues involved here. I find myself a swinging voter in all this - a curious position for me, since when it comes to political issues I'm usually pretty forthright in my own opinions. I can see reasons for three different positions, and while one of them is certainly the weakest, I do find my voting mind shifting between the three positions as I consider the issues, watch friends comment, and interact with the media storm that continues to rumble. I actually think it's the intensity and overall low quality of the media interaction on this topic (both big and small media - so whether it's news coverage, the blogosphere or individual people's posts on social media) that has made me so unable to settle on a position. The quality of public debate has been pretty terrible on all sides. Increasingly I believe that we as western society are unable to have reasoned discussions anymore. I thought it was just big media that went over-the-top to get a reaction from readers and sell its product. Apparently not. At least small media people have the excuse of finding it an emotive issue.

It's a problem though, because my reaction when I see a bad argument is to want to distance myself from it. I'm also not the most empathetic guy, so the emotional pleas that are made by all sides tend to have a repulsive effect too, because that's just one more form of bad argument (ie the logical fallacy of appeal to emotion). Note: that's different from the people who just express how the debate is making them feel - that is a legitimate thing to put forward, and I do pay attention to that. So I've turned to writing this little blog post, mostly to help myself understand what I'm going to do come postal voting day. I figure if I actually stick it on my blog, then if someone asks me what my position is on this topic, I can point them to it.

So let's start with that weakest position: the No vote. I think the No vote is the most difficult to reasonably put forward. This might explain why it's also been the one that has been the least well argued. It's certainly where my vote pendulum has spent the least amount of time. That doesn't mean it's indefensible, but it certainly does require some stretch, some faith (not religious, I just mean trusting the people making the arguments), and a fair degree of convolution to make a reasonable point.

Let me see if I can explain. Take a moral argument for a No vote. I am a Christian, and I believe that homosexuality is not in line with God's plan for people according to how I read scripture. That is not by any means a universal view, though it is an orthodox one and it is also mine. For some people, the argument ends there - "I think this, and the government is asking me what I think." That belief alone, however, is not a sufficient condition for a No vote. The government is not asking my opinion on what I would like the law to be for me, but for the whole country. For a moral argument to be valid, I would need to add to this a belief that my interpretation of God's morality is robust enough to be worth forcing on others, and that governments enforce morality, and that God wants me to enforce my moral view onto non-believers, and that God wants governments to enforce his morality in this way, and that all of this is not superseded by more general provisions of God's will like "love your enemy" and "do for others as you would have them do for you". That is one of the shorter and more direct lines of reasoning for a No argument. If someone can tick all those boxes, they have a reasonable reason for voting No. Knock out just one, and to me it's looking pretty shaky.

Even if someone can tick all those boxes, if they want to avoid hypocrisy they should also be lobbying the government to enforce all their other moral beliefs. The scary thing is if I give a list of examples like altogether outlawing homosexual practice, divorce, sex outside of marriage, and the consumption of sugar, there are probably a number of people who would think that's fine and good. They won't lobby for them - people are lazy - but they might support an organisation who would (ACL perhaps, though I'm no sure of their attitude towards sugar). So instead, let me create another list: shall we ask the government to outlaw infant baptism, the ordination of women, or the use of musical instruments in church? (By the way, the whole "marriage definition" argument fits in here: if you think marriage is a term of religious art, then do you really want governments made up of people who aren't of your faith telling you what it means?)

Although we may not remember it, the reason we say no to that idea is because we have already fought a war about this in the west: the Thirty Years' War. We adopted pluralism in the west - even back when pluralism only meant including different Christian denominations - because after eight million people died we realised that it was unworkable for a government to enforce religious or ideological affiliation when its people hold different beliefs. Still, if people really want to unravel the Peace of Westphalia, they are welcome to do so, and a No vote makes sense for them.

What I find super interesting about the No campaign as a whole is that the moral argument (which I think is the most powerful No argument) is not the one that generally headlines. It's certainly out there, and were I not a student of both theology, history and politics I might find it compelling. But No campaigners know that even if this is what they believe, it won't sell to the common Australian. The average Aussie doesn't particularly care what God thinks to the point of legislating it: their morality finds its source elsewhere. Another source of authority must be found, and so we come to the "big issue" argument - which apparently isn't anything to do with homelessness.

Many No vote campaigns (because there are several) focus on highlighting "bigger picture" issues that people seem to think or feel are at stake in this debate. For instance, a campaign might link same sex marriage with the right of children to have a mother and a father. Now, the survey isn't about children; not directly, at least. But they see a link (usually with marriage as a social convention for the raising of children), and the reasoning goes something like this: same sex marriage will change the cultural pattern of family relationships in our country by changing the underlying meaning of marriage, devaluing the role of mother and father in the life of children, which is the healthiest thing for children, and (importantly) children are voiceless and so we need to speak up on their behalf.

These kinds of arguments are problematic because the majority of No campaigns I've seen don't actually spend time explaining their position, they just say "trust me" and use these arguments to appeal to emotion. This looks an awful lot like fear-mongering to me. That's not cool. If you're going to make an argument based on claims like this, you have to outline what the problem really is, how it's apparently going to happen, how big of a factor is it in that thing happening, and what the chances are of it actually happening because of that thing you're against. After all, even if you do think children have a "natural right" (whatever that is) to grow up with their biological mother and father (who are super important because why?), if this debate is only going to make it 1% more likely that society ditches its preference for biological parents, is it worth opposing on that 1% basis?

Some at least try to prove these statements by offering authoritative scholarly material that supports their case. The problem with scholarship is what judges call the "experts at 10 paces" scenario. One side calls an expert, so the other side calls another expert, and as if by magic both experts say exactly what the people paying them want them to say. Thankfully, in court a judge can toss both of these experts into a conference and actually force them via a code of conduct and their own professionalism to come to some agreements that might actually help the judge make a decision. This is not generally an option for the average voter when confronted with reams of academic papers from both sides which say opposite things. When you strip away an objective backing for your position (eg God says so), the easiest way to diffuse your "we think it's gunna be bad" argument is to counter with "we think it's gunna be fine".

Moreover, as lofty as evidence-based policy making seems, it may be unattractive due to consequences that flow from it that don't reflect what people actually want. People are usually more wed to what they want than what evidence tells them is best. I think it's called confirmation bias, or selfishness, or basically being a human. Sugar should probably be illegal, but if you try and ban cake I will definitely not vote for you (unless you also free refugees from detention and settle them here - seriously, I will take the hit if that's what it takes).

Another example might be the argument that this is a step in the erosion of religious or personal freedoms, and we will eventually end up living in a country where churches, mosques or whoever will no longer be allowed to preach their position publicly that same sex marriage is wrong, because once the government sanctions it as legal, people will begin to push for anti-discrimination legislation to prevent people from dissenting against what is after all now lawful (or that existing legislation will come into effect). Whether this is a slippery slope argument really depends on how it is framed. It certainly attracts a lot of slippery slope rhetoric. Putting the argument at its highest though, the problem I see is that if I'm worried about anti-discrimination legislation and religious or personal freedoms, I should probably be campaigning about that directly, rather than indirectly via same sex marriage. I actually do think Australia has some problems in the area of personal and religious freedoms (why isn't Christianity an ethno-religion, NSW?), and these things should be addressed - but directly, not through the convoluted means of the same sex marriage debate. Taking an issue that has captured public interest and twisting it to your own ends is good politics, but generally poor form. That doesn't mean it's not right to talk about your legitimate concerns. But if this is your big issue, why vote No in a survey that has no actual power to change anything? Why not just vote Yes, but campaign for Yes But Only If You Protect My Right To Not Marry People If I Don't Want To And To Continue Dissenting. You need to show that same-sex marriage being legislated is a necessary or sufficient condition to the erosion of your rights. It merely being a contributing factor is not enough.

There are lots of terrible arguments for why people should vote No (looking at you, neo-nazis), but the only one I really want to comment on is the one that I find most attractive: the group membership argument. Basically it goes like this: you're Christian/Muslim/politically conservative/etc; you need to represent your fellow group members who are against this issue; we need our voice to be heard because this is after all what we believe. At its worst, this is a sort of no true Scotsman fallacy. But its attraction is undeniable, especially to members of these types of groups. No-one wants to be a black sheep, no-one wants to let the side down (and it goes double when you draw your wages from this group too! I certainly feel that pressure as a missionary, and I imagine that there are many ministers and other Christian workers who feel likewise). And you know what? Having a voice is important, and that's what campaigning is for. Despite lots of rhetoric attempting to take your voice away (I'll get to that), no-one has actually done so. But is a strong showing in a government survey for your position a strong showing for your voice? It is only if you claim the whole result as your position, and I think that's a pretty bankrupt thing to do. I have no doubt that if the survey comes back with a 51% No vote, this is precisely what the government will do (eg "This is a vote of confidence in Malcolm Turnbull"). I can sure as heck tell you that if I voted No, it wouldn't be that for me!

And therein lies another problem: when it comes to putting forward your position in the public forum, campaigning is a lot more effective than actually voting. A vote is a blunt instrument, because it will be interpreted in ways that are far outside your control. A No vote from me would not mean I hate people who want to be same sex married, but while I might get the opportunity to express my nuanced opinion to some people within my sphere of influence (if I had the balls to say how I voted on Facebook, for instance, although on second thought not that many people actually listen on social media, they just wait their turn to yell), the fact is the vast majority of people directly affected by this vote are not going to hear my voice, but they are going to look at the percentage of Nos and say, "This many people hate me." And that sucks. When I saw the results of a poll showing that 10% of people in Australia want same sex marriage legislated so as to force churches to marry same sex couples against their will, that was quite a shock. 10% is a lot. Imagine what it would feel like if you thought 30% of people hated you. Or 51%.

So even if I construct the most powerful No position I can, I can't tick enough boxes in my convoluted argument of choice to make it reasonable, I don't have enough faith in the people I'd need to trust that they're right, and I'm not comfortable stretching the picture to be quite so big as to co-opt same sex marriage into the equation. (Other people could tick the boxes, and in doing so are following a reasonable argument.) I don't want my fellow conservative Christians to feel like I'm abandoning the fold. I really do believe that this whole argument is an opportunity to tell people that Jesus loves them regardless of who they are or what they do (I haven't linked to articles in this blog post, but I think this one deserves a link, because it is such a good example of using this issue as an opportunity to spread the gospel). But I don't actually need to vote No to do that.

On we go to the Yes campaign then. There are some well-constructed Yes positions that are pretty persuasive. I'm not swayed by utilitarian considerations as a rule, but many people are and they're allowed to be, and the Yes campaign is well placed there. I am rather fond of democracy, and while I don't think the mob should determine policy, legislation should certainly reflect the society from which it comes. There are a lot of pragmatic elements of the position that ring true, although you have to be careful that some of them don't just sound more palatable because the opposing position has been so badly stated.

Were I to attempt to create the Yes argument that is most attractive to me, it would look like this: moral coercion is inappropriate, the legislative change is almost entirely symbolic, the immediate changes it would produce are almost entirely socially positive, the longer term changes to society's structure are possible but questionable, the message of support it would send to a marginalised and mistreated minority would be positive and inclusive, and it offers a way to show love to people who need it. That's a very dry position statement. Let me tell you a story instead.

When I used to work in a petrol station, I was finishing a Christmas Day shift at 8pm and handing over to my workmate Mohammed. This year it also happened to be Ramadan at Christmas time, and Mohammed (an Indian national over here doing his MIT and working several jobs to make ends meet) had just finished a shift at another petrol station elsewhere in Sydney and travelled to this one on the Northern Beaches to do back-to-back shifts. Because it was daylight when he left his last shift, and night-time by the time he got to my servo, he hadn't eaten all day. And because he was a devout Muslim, even though it was now nightfall he couldn't eat anything in the store because it wasn't halal (I think he could have eaten some Cadburys, but that's hardly a meal). He was starving. I was getting off my shift, and so I offered to get him something to eat. He was very thankful, but told me it would have to be halal because that was his conviction.

I can tell you that at the time, having been a Christian for only a year or two and attending a quite conservative and biblically based church, I was in conniptions about what to do. Here was a guy who needed food, and surely I should be helping him out. But if I bought it for him I'd be supporting his religious views, which were not only different from my own, but I firmly believed were wrong and unnecessary. Of course, I drove to the nearest place that was open on Christmas Day night that had halal food and bought him some curry, and I got some too, and we ate together. I did it because I'd rather show someone that I love and care for them than hold them to a Christian lifestyle that they don't see a need to uphold; I'd rather not judge them for that failure to love Jesus as I do; I'd rather do for them what I would hope they would do for me. And when I say "I'd rather", I actually mean Jesus would rather me do that, and so that's what I did.

I don't think people should practice homosexuality for no other reason than I believe God doesn't want them to. God doesn't coerce people into following his ways, and so neither will I. People should do what God wants because they love God, and so people loving God is what I care about most. A loving relationship with God through Jesus Christ comes first; how you live your life after that is detail. Some people think that God does not put a ban on homosexuality, and they're also welcome to their religious opinions in this pluralistic society we live in. Furthermore, in my opinion (as someone who has studied politics, political philosophy and law, and also who has participated in the political sphere at a reasonable level), whilst legislation may provide some influence on cultural moral mores, it doesn't dictate or enforce morality. While many people may tie this particular issue to bigger issues, I think a focus on the actual issue at hand is more intellectually responsible as the perceived threats are not substantial. Again I will stress that other people may not have these opinions, and that is fine. But these are the opinions that impact on my decision-making.

There are a few other side things that line up for me too: for instance, while I can't be sure that this whole debate is causing young LGBTI+ people to commit suicide, if I think the chance of harm to people because of a No result is sufficiently proportional to the chance that conservative people will crack a sad if there's a Yes result (proportional because obviously people dying is a bit more important than people being sad), I'll fall on the side of people not killing themselves. Dead people can't be evangelised. I'm not so convinced by the possibility of the debate itself causing harm that I think the debate as a whole should be stifled and silenced altogether, however.

I will also admit that the ability to be able to say I voted Yes, whilst providing me with a position to express my love for the people around me who are deeply affected by this issue, would also put me in a position where I would avoid being labelled a bigot, a homophobe, an imbecile and so many other kinds of terrible names. And that brings me rather neatly to some of my problems with the Yes positions.

It might just be me, or it might be because many No arguments threaten ephemeral catastrophes that seem rather toothless when you don't agree with the arguments, but in my exposure to the various arguments that form both sides, while the No position has its jerks (that poster down in Melbourne of late is a good example... assuming it's real), the overall trend in their campaigns has been one of strong disapproval but not disrespect towards No voters (I can certainly understand how same sex couples themselves may feel victimised). The Yes campaigns, meanwhile, have been bloody awful. I'm not sure if it's because the Yes campaigners think they've got it in the bag, but as a swinging voter I can tell you that being told I'm a Nazi for even considering the opposite position is not exactly a vote winner. The perpetual pillorying is not good campaigning. Instead of fear-mongering it's shaming, and for a position whose argument is that they have been seriously injured by shaming, that's rather hypocritical. As I said earlier, I'm a fan of democracy, and the tactic that has been employed of seeking to shut down debate is to me untenable, and hiding behind the health and wellbeing of children in an attempt to do so is exactly the same kind of bad argument that's being made by No campaigns.

Furthermore, many of the arguments and slogans that the Yes campaigns put forward almost seem to invite ridicule and encourage flawed understandings. I received a handout from Rainbow Labor at the train station the other day, and it gave me three reasons to vote Yes: "1) Tony Abbott doesn't want you to, 2) Our weddings will be bloody fab, 3) All love is equal." How serious are you taking this thing? Do you want me to take it as seriously as that? Coming off as cocky winners before a vote's been held is pretty unAustralian, and I don't say that as a joke. Aussies don't like tall poppies, and are always more conservative at the ballot box than they are in any poll. Now, I get that there's a fair bit of marketing spin in this, and a desire to paint a picture of hip and fun. But the voting bloc you need to win in Australia is not youth, and for people like me who are really trying to decide what to do, a lack of serious says to me that if I don't take your position it doesn't matter.

What does "all love is equal" mean? What does "love is love" mean? Is my love for my wife the same as my love for my dog? Is my love for my parents the same as the love for my friends? Is my love for chilli the same as my love for God? I certainly don't think so, and I reckon you don't either. I know what the slogan means: that romantic and companionly love between people of the same gender should be seen as equal to that kind of love between heterosexuals. I don't have a problem with that, and I recognise that it doesn't fit on a bumper sticker. But in a context where one of the arguments against you is at worst a slippery slope argument (namely that those in favour of polyamory or more extremely not normative relationships like between adults and children will use this as a stepping stone) but at best a limitation of rights argument (polyamorous people should be given the right to marry more people, since at present they're the ones who face criminal charges if they try), it seems like a bad decision to promote a slogan that leaves you open to this kind of criticism by almost overtly suggesting that you are actually supporting some or all of these causes. If you actually are (and I imagine that polyamory is actually supported by at least some Yes campaigners), own it as much as you need to (which, given this vote isn't about that, isn't really that much, but it's not zero either if you are campaigning to further a bigger issue). Don't say, "It's not about that". If it's a bad argument, counter it. If it's not, then uh-oh.

Just as a kicker, I'm not a huge fan of how the Yes vote has garnered a significant amount of neo-capitalist support for the reason that it provides a good platform for supporting an ultra-individualist message that ultimately assists capitalism to ruin everything. This is not a "bad people support your side" argument (this has been done by both sides, and it's a stupid argument: I brush my teeth regardless of whether Hitler did); this is an "I don't agree with the ultra-individualism that forms part of your argument hence making it attractive to the bourgoisie" argument. But really that's probably just me. Most people love capitalism.

Again, there are plenty of terrible arguments for voting Yes (the ones that bother me most are the legal or rights-based arguments that are factually inaccurate). There probably isn't a great point in me going through and debunking them; they're bad arguments. They don't need my attention. The point is they aren't going to convince me to vote Yes.

So on the one hand I have a No campaign that is not very well argued and needs to draw a long bow to be reasonable, but can be defended and makes me feel like part of the team and while fervent is more respectful; on the other hand I have a Yes campaign that is more easily defended and aligns with far more of my broad beliefs about politics and law, but doesn't seem to take itself seriously, seeks to shut down debate and threatens to shame me if I don't agree with them loudly enough.

Enter the third option: don't vote at all. I saw some early support for this position coming from the now Yes camp, although it seems that it got shot down, and I can understand why. I strongly dislike this option, at least partly because I think public expression of opinion in politics is valuable to policy-making, but also probably partly because I'm Australian and compulsory voting feels right. And yet it says a lot that at the moment this is the position that holds my attention the most. There are some good reasons for this: the vote has become less and less legitimate (from compulsory to voluntary, from a plebiscite to a mail survey); the government has made no firm statement about how they will evaluate the response and no firm statement on what they will do in the case of a result (and may not be trustworthy even if they did); there is every possibility that whatever way I vote it is going to be counted in that blunt-instrument style I mentioned earlier towards some ideological position to which I do not subscribe; and it doesn't prevent me from entering the debate to put forward the stuff I think is important.

And then there are a number of arguments that, while not hugely strong on their own, do still have some appeal: I don't think this issue is so important that I need to be voting on it; it means I get to stop thinking about it; it's a cop-out vote that saves me from the pressure of both sides - while it's unlikely to make me any friends, it's unlikely to lose me any either; and it's possible that whatever anyone votes, if the Coalition does nothing Labor will simply pass legislation to this effect when they next gain power. (I wish I could say 'likely', but the ALP are a bit spineless these days. Why does Australian politics suck so hard? Oh, wait, it's because of us voters. Derp.) Toss in that it's the lazy option (I can literally do nothing and follow this position) and it looks kinda appealing.

The sad thing for me is that possibly the single biggest reason I'd vote Nothing (or even No) rather than Yes is because of Yes campaigning itself. I have absolutely no problem with people in the Yes camp expressing themselves however they want, but the result of their choice of expressions has meant that even though their position, reasonably presented, is the one I think makes the most sense, I might not vote that way because I'm just sick of being told I'm stupid, I'm worthless, my voice is not welcome, my vote (not just my opinion, my actual vote) is illegitimate, this issue has nothing to do with me, and that my Christian friends who may vote No are even worse.

I am a sinner, and sometimes I make decisions out of a desire for comfort, security, personal benefit or laziness. But I pray that I don't vote (or not vote) for selfish reasons, because to me love is about making sacrifices for other people's benefit, even if they don't deserve it. A little something Jesus taught me.

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A few more words about legislating morality

After writing this, I found myself in a bit of a moral quandary regarding my position that governments should not legislate morality. I was listening to quite a good sermon on the need for us to invest in the lives of others, and the preacher said something like, "Often people ask, 'Why does God allow so many people to live in poverty?' Well, God tells us to care for the poor. I don't think the problem is that there isn't enough to go around. The problem is that we like to hoard our wealth." Damn right.

This is one of the key reasons that I feel we should have a socialist government that more equally distributes resources: life matters more than wealth. But if I'm asking the government to regulate people's wealth in order to essentially bypass or enforce their charitability because God wants us looking after the poor, how is that different to someone seeking to enforce a law preventing same sex couples from marrying because God doesn't like it?

I'm actually not 100% sure of an answer here, so I thought again I'd put words on electronic paper and see if it helped my train of thought. I will probably make absolutist statements, but of course all this stuff is just my opinion, and it doesn't mean that there aren't reasonable opinions to the contrary (I will, as usual, trash some less reasonable ones in my eyes). I'll also be taking a Christian perspective, since that's where I'm coming from.

I've read some articles that boil everything down to a "natural law" which we must follow. This argument generally comes from a verse like Romans 13:4-7. The problem is this verse isn't about being in power, it's about submitting to power (I do believe that this passage, along with others, sets out a broad deontological framework for punishment; Kant agrees with me here). We all know that governments don't always follow God's morality; rather, God uses governments as agents despite their imperfection (like Assyria or Babylon). Nations are as sinful as the people who live in them. One author talked about how we don't legislate our morality, or your morality, but the morality. That's pretty simply falsifiable; not necessarily because there is no the morality, but because no-one has the authority to point to it or articulate it besides God. God hasn't made it as clear as we might like on some issues, and there is even argument about how clear the boundaries between clarity and opacity are. At this point we're back at the need for the Peace of Westphalia.

I've read some articles that attempt to define morality in terms of a sort of personal adherence only, and say that Christians should seek to legislate freedom (giving people as much leeway to serve God as possible) and justice (protecting the weak from the evils of others when necessary). They use verses like John 8:1-11 to show that Jesus did not enforce morality on people, and Genesis 2:16-17 to show that God's creative order is not one of force but choice; and any of the hundreds of verses that talk about God's desire for justice (Deuteronomy 16:20 stands pretty well for me here).

These are pretty good points. One problem with this pattern of reasoning is it seems to lead in the literature to a libertarian mode of government: minimum government providing maximum freedom to its citizens. At least, that's where our western minds take it, because we're individualists. Christians (particularly American Christians) try to say that Christianity is the reason we have freedoms in the west. It's not; we can thank the Enlightenment project and its focus on individualism for that. Don't believe me? Just point me to where individual freedoms sprung up under European Catholic rule between 400AD and 1500AD. Human value? Absolutely. But human freedom? I'm not certain, but I'd certainly like to see the evidence.

Another problem is how we define justice. Justice is a pretty difficult eel to nail down. We can end up coming right back to the whole Peace of Westphalia thing in trying to come to a definition of what justice is, or whether something is or isn't just. The benefit of "justice" over "morality" is that I think you're at least more likely to come to a group definition of a principle or concept that defines a process than you are a list of proscribed or prescribed actions or activities.

All this would be easier if I just thought that individuals were the core currency of government. Then I could just say 'whatever is in the majority wins, and minorities just lump it'; then government just becomes a machine for determining and enforcing majority sentiment. Likewise, I guess if I just thought power was the most important thing, I'd be happy with the rich making all the decisions, and we could live in some sort of realpolitik aristocracy.

The thing is, in my opinion government isn't about individuals; it's the intersection between individual and community. God values both of those things; so should we. I should point out that when I say individual I mean something like "a single person or a group of persons who align by choice"; when I say communal I mean something like "a group of people aligned due to circumstance". A group of friends or a church are examples of a group of individuals held together ultimately through the choice of its individual members. A family or a nation-state are examples of a group of individuals held together by factors outside of their control, membership of which cannot be easily avoided. (It's not a perfect definition - adoption obviously brings someone into a family by choice; some can choose to leave family or change nationalities. But these things are not straightforward or even possible for many.) Community basically forces people to interact, and government and its laws are the grease that make those forced interactions work. (As an aside, when you think about the prevalence of organised marriage in the past, suddenly it makes a lot more sense why marriage is a government issue and why its relevance seems to slip a little in modern times in the west where marriages are far more by mutual consent.)

Moreover, government is about utilising power for the benefit of the community as a whole. That doesn't mean the fruits of that power need to be entirely egalitarian (I mean hey, bring it on), but I think God makes it clear that those in power should be looking out for the poor, the marginalised and the oppressed, and to the extent they aren't doing that they are not following him. This is probably one of the reasons democracy is so popular: it tries to balance the individual with the communal, and it leaves space for leadership to countermand majority opinion when that opinion is clearly not in the best interests of minorities. It's not perfect (nothing is), but at least it attempts to address these problems.

Ultra-individualist libertarianism is not better than some sort of theocratic totalitarianism (if anything, I'd lean towards the latter if I had to choose, depending on the leadership). Instead, it seems that freedom and justice need to be tempered by one another.  This is not an either/or dichotomy; it is a spectrum upon which governments may move. The needs of society may at times require a shift in that spectrum in one direction or the other, and that is the work of leaders to decide. The distinction between a Christian seeking to legislate a specific set of moral acts and a Christian seeking to legislate a specific position on the broad spectrum of freedom and justice is kind of like the difference between act utilitarianism and rule utilitarianism. I'm not advocating the consequentialist moral position that utilitarianism provides though - rather, I'm talking about a sort of act vs rule deontology. I don't know if that's a thing (pardon my philosophical ignorance on this point!) but it's a good enough comparison for me, so it's going to have to do.

So where does that leave us? It leaves us with a system where Christians living in a democracy get a say in what is legislated, but have to realise that their voice is not the only one that gets to be heard. However, it also leaves us with Christians who in their decision-making need to recognise that their opinions in political matters should not be made simply along personal moral guidelines, but in terms of what decisions are best for the smooth running of a pluralist community thrust together by circumstance. That's the moral thing to do, and at the end of the day, even if I think that Christians shouldn't legislate morality, I still believe they should legislate morally. The decisions made, whether as an MP, a lobbyist, or a voter, will be and should be made within a personal moral framework, and that framework must include the needs of all. In terms of big picture decisions (such as structure of government or even which political party should be in power) this is going to mean taking the good with the bad. There are no perfect choices this side of heaven, except the one to love God and believe in his son Jesus Christ.

Sermon: John 14:15-31 revised 2017

This is a revised edition of a sermon I gave in 2012 on the same passage (and at the same church). I didn't make any wildly different theological statements or interpret the passage itself much differently, but five years is a long time, and other things had changed, so I felt it needed a bit of a jazz up (also the wording of the original sermon was far more lecturesque).

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As you know, Penny and I will be heading to Namibia soon. When we get there, one of the important things we'll need to do is learn the Namibian way of life. To do this, we will watch and learn what the customs are, how things are done differently, what is appropriate and what is inappropriate. We are assured it will be quite different to Australia! And to begin with, no doubt we will look at these differences as outsiders, wondering at how strange they are. To give one simple example – apparently, in Namibia it is not appropriate to serve a visitor to your house water in a plastic cup, even if you're having a barbecue. Why? Because to serve only water and not something better is to devalue your visitor; and only children drink out of plastic cups, so it is rudely suggesting that your guest is a child. Just last week we were helping a couple in our church move house, and they gave us water in a plastic cup. We didn't even think twice about it.

There will be so many things like that which we will seek to observe, and to learn. We're not just learning these things because we're curious, or because we want to write a book on Namibian behaviour. We want to learn them because Namibia is the place we are going to call home for many years, and we want to live like Namibians live. We want to put these things into practice because we want to become part of the Namibian community. We've started this process by talking with Namibians we've met here, and with Australians who have lived in Namibia. And when we get to Namibia, there will be Namibians who will be examples for us: who will help us to fit in, help us to live the right way, and help us to feel welcome. They will seek to make us part of the community.

Today we are looking at the latter half of John 14, which puts us partway through Jesus saying farewell to his disciples before he is betrayed, crucified, and buried. There is a lot Jesus wants to tell his closest followers, things he wants them to know, things he wants them to remember before he leaves them. And in this section, what Jesus wants his disciples to learn is the nature of God as a God of community, and what that means for them.

God by his very nature builds relationships. And as we look at this passage, it is my hope that we will be able to deepen our understanding of God and his relationships in the same way as Penny and I will deepen our understanding of Namibians and their community. We will start in these verses as observers, looking from the outside at the nature of God in relationship with himself. But then we will see how God's community with himself interacts with us; what the different persons of God do in their roles in the trinity for us. Finally, we will see that God's relationship in the trinity is not shut off, but in fact it is open to us to join in relationship with him in his three persons. God's community is open for us to join, and he welcomes us into it as people who love and obey him.

What does that Father and Son relationship look like between God and Jesus here in John 14? It is mentioned several times in this passage. Firstly we see that God the Father is the provider. In verse 16, Jesus requests from the Father, and the Father gives (this is repeated in verse 26). In verse 20, Jesus tells us he is in the Father. In verse 24, Jesus makes it clear that his words have authority because they belong to the Father. Jesus states plainly in verse 28 that the Father is greater than himself (the Father is greater than the Son because his position is worth more glory – the person sending the message is higher than the messenger - but that does not make one more god, or one less god). Finally, in verse 31 it is clear that Jesus loves the Father, and does whatever he commands. The Father gives commands, the Son is obedient to them.

Where does the Spirit fit into this family relationship? Well, the Holy Spirit is only mentioned twice in this passage, and both times in terms of being sent by the Father. We can't extrapolate too much from those small mentions, but it is clear both that the Spirit is sent by the Father, and is requested by the Son. He is another advocate sent by God.

It's great that Jesus describes his relationship with God in family terms, because when we look at our own families, we see similar relationships where different people come together to form one family. We have a position like husband or wife, father or mother, son or daughter. But there is much more to a family than those simple positions. People in families each have roles depending on who they are. In all our years of marriage, I have not done the laundry once. But I always take care of the car registration and insurance and servicing. That's not because I'm the husband and Penny's the wife, and it's not because I'm incapable of doing laundry. It's because of who we are, and it's part of how we relate to each other. These things are all just part of being a family. The positions (husband and wife) and the roles (laundry and car maintenance) together make up our family. Penny and I are a family because we are husband and wife, but also because we relate to one another and do these things that make us a family and not, say, business partners or something else.

And that is what Jesus shows us: the ways that the Father, Son and Spirit interact in these verses shows us that God loves community. He exists in a relationship with himself. This is integral to who God is. God doesn't need us. He didn't make humans because he was lonely. He doesn't need our worship or our belief to make himself stronger. God didn't invent the idea of relationship so that he could relate to us. Relationship and community are an intrinsic part of who God is.

But Jesus here in John 14 isn't just painting a picture of how we can intellectually know more about God; he is showing us how we can become part of God's family: the family of God himself, starting with the trinity, extends to include us. He doesn't just describe how God relates with himself in trinity; he describes how God relates to us in trinity.

God the Father is the authority, the commander and sender. Who did God send Jesus to? The Father sent Jesus to us. Jesus asks the Father to send the Holy Spirit to us. God has a message he wishes to share with us, with all humanity.

How does he choose to share it? Hebrews chapter 1 verse 1 tells us clearly, “In the past God spoke to our ancestors through the prophets at many times and in various ways, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son.” And this is what we see here in John 14. Jesus is the Son, sent from God with God's message and as God's message. He teaches us God's commands, and expects those who love God to obey them. Jesus is the revealer. His role, as he makes clear, is to reveal the true nature of God to people, to us. Jesus shows us God in his own life and teaching, in ways that can only be done through his life and his death and his resurrection. When I talk about revealing, I mean as in revealing the nature of a mystery. We learn things about God by looking at Jesus that we cannot learn any other way.

Even when Jesus speaks of his death, he shows that it is an act done to reveal God to us, because God wants us to know that Jesus loves the Father and does exactly what his Father has commanded him (that's in verse 31). This tells us that this is not an act merely that Jesus seeks to do, but he is going to his death for us because God the Father has commanded it. Our salvation by Christ's sacrifice on the cross is a command of God, to which Jesus submits. Those people who think that Jesus is loving, but God is vengeful and angry, need to read this verse. God commanded Jesus to take away our sin.

The Holy Spirit's role is also revealed by Jesus. The Son is not to remain on earth forever, and his ministry of revealing God's mysteries to us is therefore finite. However, while those revealed truths may not change, the world does change, humanity changes, culture changes, and from generation to generation there are always going to be questions that need an answer about those revelations. So it is that the Spirit of Truth, as it is named in verse 17, is sent to us, to live in us and to teach us about and remind us of the truths Jesus has revealed, as we learn in verse 26. The Holy Spirit is not primarily a revealer of truth, as Jesus is. Revelations such as those Jesus made really only need to be made once – we do not need to crucify Christ every time we wish to explain God's love for us. But we do need to be reminded, we do need to have spiritual truths explained to us. And who better to do this than God? This is the role of the Holy Spirit.

In outlining all of these roles, we can begin to capture an appreciation for the lengths to which God has gone to reach out to us. God the Father has given a command, and sent his Son. The Son has come to reveal God's mysteries to us, in obedience to the Father, even to the point of death on a cross to reveal God's desire to save us and bring us to him. The Son has then petitioned the Father to give to us the Holy Spirit, who explains those revelations to us, and reminds us of them. God doesn't need us; but the fact that relationship and community are integral to who God is means that his desire to share that relationship with us is very real and very powerful, and is expressed in all parts of his nature.

So why is Jesus telling his disciples all this, and what is it that we should be learning from it? Jesus really does want us to know more about what God is like, but he has a purpose in doing so. I think there are two things we should focus on. Firstly, I think Jesus is telling his disciples about how relationship and community is such an important part of who God is because he's going to be leaving them soon, and separation and change can put a strain on community. When a child grows up and moves out of the house on their own, they don't stop being part of the family, but things do change, don't they? When Penny and I leave for Namibia, we won't stop being a part of our church or our family here, but the relationship will change. Jesus is going to die, and even though he will be raised again, he will not be with the disciples in the same way. They won't have God walking among them in human form as they once did. Jesus understands: he knows there is every chance that this will cause their hearts to be troubled and afraid.

Perhaps sometimes we can feel the same way – we can think it would be so much easier if Jesus were here now, walking around so we could talk to him, walk with him, point others to him. But Jesus assures us that even though he is not here with us in body, God – Father, Son and Spirit – are with us, they do live with us.

The power of that truth can sometimes pass us by. The Holy Spirit, the Spirit of Truth, resides in us. Jesus, the obedient Son of God, is also in us, and we are also in him. The Father himself - the creator, sustainer, commander of the whole universe, the Lord almighty - comes to live with us!

There is no relationship more accepting than having someone come and live with you in your house. Penny and I are currently living with a friend from church while we prepare to leave for Namibia. That is a intimate and invasive relationship. She has had to give us keys to her home. We sleep in her bed – she sleeps in her spare room! We could ruin her carpet. We could eat all her food. We could steal everything she has. She cannot escape us. And that is how closely accepted into God's family we become. Yes, when the time comes we will live with God forever in his house: earlier in this chapter in verses 2 and 3 Jesus talks about how his Father's house has many rooms, and he is going away to prepare a place for us. But we live with the relational God right now; every part of the trinity of God lives with us. That should be real to us. It should be a comfort to us, to know that God is not far from us.

I think the other thing Jesus wants his disciples to understand in this passage is that in becoming members of God's family, they too have a role to play. And this speaks to us as loudly as it did to them. What is that role? To love God and obey his commands as set out to us by Jesus. That is how we are welcomed into a close, personal relationship with God. In verse 20 Jesus says, “You will realise that I am in my Father, and you are in me, and I am in you. Whoever has my commands and keeps them is the one who loves me. Anyone who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I too will love them and show myself to them.”

We have to make sure we're hearing what Jesus says here, because it's really easy to hear, “It is those who obey his commands that are accepted.” But in fact, what Jesus says is that anyone who loves him will obey his commands. The relationship is not one of simple obedience like a dog to a master. It is loving obedience, far more like that between a son and father. We do what God wishes because it is right, but also because we love him, and we want to serve him willingly. Obedience to God is a constant struggle – but Jesus has taken care of that for us. We are not going to be kicked out of God's family if we fail to obey his commands. John himself wrote in his letter 1 John 2:1, “My dear children, I write this to you so that you will not sin. But if anybody does sin, we have an advocate with the Father - Jesus Christ, the Righteous One.”

So if you are struggling with sin, if you feel like you are distant from God because of things in your life that are holding you back, turn your eyes to the cross, and realise that your sin has been done away with, and that because of Jesus there is nothing keeping you from God, from being embraced by the trinity, from having the Holy Spirit and Christ and God dwell within you.

That is the message God sent Jesus to embody; the message that lives in us. We need to make that message known to all people in the world. God is not calling them to a simple blind obedience either. Jesus knows that anyone who loves him will obey his teaching, and that anyone who does not love him will not obey his teaching (verse 24). Jesus knew that was the case. We need to realise the same thing. Our concern, as those who have been welcomed into God's family, should be to express that same love God has expressed for us, so that others can love God for who he is, and from that love come to obey his teaching.

Christians, as members of God's family, are where God resides in this world. If people cannot experience the love of God when they are with Christians, if people cannot love the place where God lives, then how will they know God and love him? As a church, and as individuals, you are supporting Penny and I to go to Namibia to help the church there grow in their knowledge of God's word. That's an amazing expression of God's love to the people of Namibia! We don't wait for their churches to have good theology before we love them and help them. We act out of love for them in the knowledge that their love for God will lead to obedience.

That is the same heart we must have for all people. The truth of modern day Australia is that most people do not obey God, because most people do not love him. We have to make sure we're doing everything we can to ensure that those who don't love God can see his love shown to them through what we do. And that can be hard when people are so against God and what he asks of them. Take, for example, the same sex marriage debate. I think the church has certainly made known the commands of God in this area. But has it made the love of God known to these people? Are we communicating as people who accept what Jesus says, that those who love God will obey his teaching, and those who do not love God will not obey it? I think sometimes we get our wires crossed, and put it the wrong way around.

And that's a mistake, because if there's one thing that Jesus teaches us in this passage, one powerful truth that we must accept, it's this: God the Father is the one who will work; God is the one we must rely on. Jesus himself did not stand in front of his disciples and say, “Here is my message, here is the Holy Spirit.” No, he said, “I have the Father's message. I will ask the Father, and the Father will send the Spirit.” Like Jesus, we must rely on the Father to provide open hearts. We must rely on the Father to give people the Spirit of Truth. When we feel like we can't do anything to break past the hate for God, we can pray. And God, who lives with us, will hear us.

Let's pray now.