I'm back in Novosibirsk for a short visit and I've been surprised by how at home I feel. But, man, this is an ugly city. Grey, industrial, dusty and dirty. So, I've been looking at this recent picture of Sydney to remind myself of beauty...and I've been thinking about homosexuality.
As homosexual groups lobby for the right to marry across the U.S. (and across the world), I am struck by the fact that even if (or more likely, when) homosexual couples are granted this right, they will never fully experience the deep mystery of sacred union. No matter how much they long for it, a piece of paper, a ceremony or employee benefits won't be able to duplicate the experience of married heterosexual couples. After all, homosexual relationships have absolutely zero potential for producing offspring.
Sure, couples could adopt or use some other creative avenue to get a child. A male couple could get a surrogate mother to carry the child. Female couples could seek the seed of a willing male. But, the experience wouldn't really be the same, would it? Even married couples who adopt and love their adopted children just as much as if they were their own biological offspring know that something went wrong along the way which provided the opportunity to adopt. Somewhere previous to adoption, the child was abandoned or the biological parents were unfit to care for the child or they were unable to because of death or illness. Adoption in this case is an example of God's redeeming love. Good triumphs over the previous evil. But, it's not the ideal, is it?
Any way you slice it, a homosexual couple will never be able to look into a child's eyes and experience the humility and glory of their own participation in this person's very existence. An existence that came about because the Creator of the universe chose to use you and your wife's bodies (and possibly souls for us transducians) and the event of a passionate, sacred union to create a new living person.
These are the things I think about when I look into my daughter's eyes.
