As Seen on "The Corner"

It turns out that Tuesday this humble blog got a mention on "The Corner" at National Review. Here's what Jonah Goldberg wrote at 8:27 AM:

A Scanners Moment for Stan Kurtz
Remember when those dudes' heads exploded in Scanners? If Stan reads this description of a Jewish-Catholic gay wedding , someone may need to take a bottle of windex and a scrub brush to his computer monitor.

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Denarius would like to express its gratitude towards Mr. Goldberg for the plug. And for anyone whose head exploded on account of those posts, we offer our sincerest apologies.

Misyar -- Muslim Marriage Lite

Another fascinating aspect of Arab-Muslim society: temporary marriages.

A peculiar custom allows for short-term marriage-like arrangements called "Misyar". Under Misyar the husband is not required to provide a dowry, and if the Misyar breaks up he is not liable for child support or alimony, leaving women extremely vulnerable if the arrangement breaks up -- which critics say happens 80 percent of the time. While Misyar is understood to be a temporary arrangement, it does allow for sexual intercourse. Misyar is allowed under the Saudi interpretation of Islamic law.

Is it just me, or does it seem that the more one learns about Islam, the tawdrier it turns out to be?

And Jesus-Free Blessings To You Too

Yesterday I referred you to an article describing a gay wedding, an article that required either a good sense of humor or a strong stomach (prefereably both) to get through. I apologize in advance for doing this to you, but I'd like to go back, because the whole thing neatly summarizes what's going on in the Episcopal Church right now.

The supporters of gay marriage and actively gay clergy in the Episcopal Church will tell you that the entire debate is about homosexuality, but to the orthodox there's something else going on: sometimes it's a detailed theological argument, sometimes it's a gut feeling, and sometimes it's anecdotes like Michael and Randy's Special Day, but at some point the orthodox will tell you there's more going on than a debate about sexual ethics -- that their opponents are bent on drastically changing the nature of the church itself.

Here's the really telling part:

I had never taken communion, out of respect and also out of a vague fear that, as a Jew, I would be struck with thunderbolts if I did. But the minister and Michael and Randy said this communion was for everyone, that it could mean whatever we wanted it to, and after all it was challah. So I stood in line, dunked my bread in the cider, and was generously showered with a Jesus-free blessing by a minister friend.

The thing is, Eucharist (or communion for you Evangelical types) doesn't just mean whatever we want it to mean. Christians have argued long and hard about the significance of the ritual, but at a minimum it's supposed to be a meditation on Christ's sacrifice: "Do this in remembrance of me." To take Christ out of communion is to drain the ritual of all meaning. And because Eucharist is so critical to both the Roman Catholic and Episcopal churches, taking Christ out of Eucharist arguably represents the negation of all Christian tradition and teaching.

Elizabeth Kaeton is an Episcopal priest in New Jersey, and considered a spokeswoman for the pro-gay faction of the church. She was not the original author of any of this, but she saw fit to repeat it, approvingly, in her blog.

Leave aside the question of gay marriage, and all the other wierdness of this particular wedding ceremony. That a leader in the church is not disturbed by the notion of a "Jesus-free" eucharist -- holding this up as an example of how weddings should be celebrated -- suggests that she is willing to purge Christ from Christianity.

And that, folks, is what all the fuss is about.

"Just Like a Real Wedding!"

For your consideration, a gushing description of a gay wedding.

An exquisite depiction of spiritual chaos. A few samples:

THE groom’s mother wore a peach silk suit and an expression of mingled happiness, anxiety and bemusement. The other groom’s mother wore a peacock-blue dress and a similar expression, one that seemed to combine “I can’t believe this is happening” with “What a beautiful day, what a lovely chapel, what nice well-dressed people — just like a real wedding.” One groom’s father needed to step outside and smoke a lot. The other groom’s father was dead.

But this huppah was not just a huppah. First, it was a quilt, created by the grooms’ families and friends, with squares that read “Two Boys Dancing” and “I don’t even know how to think straight.”

I had never taken communion, out of respect and also out of a vague fear that, as a Jew, I would be struck with thunderbolts if I did. But the minister and Michael and Randy said this communion was for everyone, that it could mean whatever we wanted it to, and after all it was challah. So I stood in line, dunked my bread in the cider, and was generously showered with a Jesus-free blessing by a minister friend.

Together, we all marched onward and outward to bright sunlight and chicken breasts in apricot sauce: the gay Catholics, the nominally straight Jews, the Midwestern families who had traveled long distances in more ways than one, the whole motley collection of pagans, ex-priests, Buddhists, actors and singers, each of whom had absorbed the ceremony in their way.

It wasn’t a legal wedding. Even so, it made me think the Right is correct in fearing same-sex unions. There is such power in this kind of brave and naked love that it may make the walls of Jericho come tumbling down.

Myself, I was too busy laughing to be scared, but that's just me. Read the whole meshugenah thing yourself and absorb the ceremony in your own way.