The bitter dispute ripping apart the social fabric of Ocean Grove, N.J., a lovely Victorian enclave 40 miles south of Manhattan, began simply enough. Long-time residents Harriet Bernstein, 65, a retired schoolteacher, and Luisa Paster, 60, a Princeton University staff developer, wanted to celebrate their civil union on the town’s boardwalk pavilion. The ceremony would have been legal, since New Jersey in 2004 had become the fifth state in the nation to recognize homosexual civil unions.
But Ocean Grove isn’t just any pretty town. Founded as a Methodist camp in 1869, it was the first permanent camp meeting dedicated to the pursuit of both holiness and recreation, according to historian Troy Messenger, author of “Holy Leisure: Recreation & Religion in God’s Square Mile.”
Ocean Grove has remained a religious retreat for its entire existence. Its leaders adhere to the Methodist Book of Discipline, which warns that “ceremonies that celebrate homosexual unions shall not be conducted by our ministers and shall not be conducted in our churches.” Thus, says executive director Scott Hoffman, they cannot permit the civil union ceremony. “We own 100% of the land, including parks, beach, boardwalk, and a thousand feet of riparian rights, granted by the state. We worship on the boardwalk, and cannot allow activity in opposition to our deeply held religious beliefs.”
This conflict is interesting both for what it says about the country’s current debate over civil unions and for what it might indicate about the direction the law will take in the future. The collision here is between an assertion of civil rights by the couple and an assertion of freedom of religion by the Methodists.
This may be the one that goes to the Supremes. The conflict here is clear and Consitutional. Either the First Amend means what it says or it does not. It states clearly that Congress shall make no rules governing religion, and if the state can override the Methodist Chuch, then the First Amend. has been set aside.
But this is probably what will happen because the state is so far over on the left. Even the essay entered here implies that the Methodists owe the homosexuals something, and that something should be the abrogation of their own church rules, as if the rules of the church were civil legislation, but that, of course, is what is at stake: Are the rules of a church subordinate to “civil rights”? We shall not see what stuff the Methodist Church is made of, and whether is can stand the onslaught of the prevailing social agenda. I suppose we may say that since we are unable to deal with TEC in a manner consistent with own rules, why should the Methodists do otherwise? Larry
If the camp were not allowing homosexuals access to the camp or its facilities for recreation, then the state would have a case. However, the camp is not allowing a religious service (or quasi religious service) to take place in that camp when that service violates the discipline of the denomination. That is completely different.
YBIC,
Phil Snyder
[blockquote]Among themselves, Methodists just didn’t have enough economic demand to fill all the buildings–or to pour in money for the substantial maintenance and rehabilitation that most of them needed. At the same time Methodist restrictions on behavior–no drinking, smoking or gambling, no cars in town on Sunday, and worse, no Sabbath beach-going–deterred many outsiders from buying there when they could as easily buy elsewhere on the shore. Plus highly decorative Victorians went out of style. . .
But another irony is that the sensibility of the Methodist founders lives on in the planning and architectural principles that set Ocean Grove apart–quite literally–from its neighbors. Narrow lakes to the north and south define “God’s Square Acre,” as Grovers used to call it. The street plan staggers lots to maximize sea views for as many buildings as possible. The mandated building setback increases with proximity to the ocean, yielding a feeling of spaciousness near the water.
The Methodist planning principles are based on neighborliness. Only small lots were leased, and private open space was designed so that neighbors could interact easily. The fences in front yards were kept low to encourage movement between properties and to define private open spaces rather than segregated private spaces, says Victoria Anna Housen, a local architectural writer.[/blockquote]
Boy, if you built something like that today, you would have people jumping at the opportunity to live there. Sounds like something out of a Thomas Kinkade painting. http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&btnG=Google+Search&q=thomas%20kinkade
One may be over 21 and have the right to drink wine, but that does not grant access to the Chalice of St. Mary’s Catholic Church.
A sad story indeed. I grew up near enough to OG to make the occasional visit (e.g., when my uncle boarded there for a while after his wife died.) Of course esp. as teens we went next door to Point Pleasant when we wanted to play.
Bernstein and Paster come across rather like the opposite of cynics (who “know the cost of everything but the value of nothing.”) They seem to value the Kincaid-like “Victorian sensibility” of the neighborhood without appreciating the cost of establishing and maintaining it. If their neighbors value their investment long term (what’s the chance of that?!) they’ll rally to support the CMA and recognize [b]tolerance[/b] of its values as the best means to preserve the qualities they love in their adopted neighborhood. What’s more, there seems to be a real opportunity for ministry to the “mainstreamed” poor and troubled abandoned by the government!
Judging from recent trends in the Methodist church, however, I suspect OG is something of an embarrassment to those in the corridors of power. Could the same light bulb jokes (one to change, ten to praise the virtues of the old one) when aimed at TEC’s relationship with the BCP, be applied to the Methodists’ relationship with Ocean Grove?