Not all MPs can be linked to apology
ON April 3 the House of Representatives unanimously passed the third reading of the Criminal Records (Expungement of Convictions for Historical Homosexual Offences) Bill (now a Statute, following Royal Assent), to enable men who have, in the past, been convicted of homosexual acts between consenting adults, to have the record of those convictions expunged.
Speaking to the Bill, Justice Minister Andrew Little acknowledged the apology made last year by then Justice Minister Amy Adams, on introducing the Bill, to those men convicted, before the law was reformed in 1986, of homosexual acts which wouldn’t now be illegal. He added another ‘‘on behalf of this House and all members who have passed through it since it was established [Civis’ italics]’’.
It’s right the House should apologise for an oppressive, discriminatory, and pointless law, which caused much pain, but Civis has doubts about Mr Little’s assumption that ‘‘all members who have passed through [the House] since it was established’’ can be associated with that apology.
It’s salutary to look at what was said by some MPs when reform was debated in 197475 and 198586.
Some, such as Keith Holyoake, commendably, voted for reform despite personal distaste (‘‘The thought of homosexual acts is absolutely abhorrent and repulsive to me’’).
Some showed simple ignorance — ‘‘There is no denying it is possible to change one’s sexual orientation’’ (Whetu TirikateneSullivan, 1986); ‘‘The homosexual within the community is a predatory being’’ (Maurice McTigue, 1985) — correctable, one hopes, with time and education.
Some were unrealistic — ‘‘New Zealand has the capacity to escape the scourge of Aids, but will not do so if this Bill is passed’’ (Winston Peters, 1986).
But some, while voting for continued criminal sanctions for a victimless private act, flourished prejudice like a banner: ‘‘if homosexuality were allowed . . . the danger would be as disastrous as a hydrogen bomb’’ (Gordon Christie, 1974); ‘‘ . . . this evil Bill . . . ‘‘ (Graeme Lee, 1986); ‘‘ This day will be remembered as a sad and sickening day for New Zealand. A black cloud hangs over Parliament tonight, and those members who wheel themselves through the Ayes lobby tonight . . . should feel ashamed.’’ (John Banks, 1986); ‘‘The actions of homosexuals are both evil and perverted’’ (Geoffrey Braybrooke, 1985).
Winston Peters, presumably, joined the apology, at least passively, as the third reading of the Bill was passed unanimously. He’s had plenty of time to think more deeply than in 1986.
But it seems unlikely that MPs such as Graeme Lee, Norman Jones (who seemed to be obsessed by sodomy, and tried to attack Fran Wilde with his stick when debating the 1986 reform Bill on radio), and John Banks, who opposed reform so aggressively, would have done so.
It’s a step too far for Andrew Little to recruit them into his apology. We need to be realistic: blind prejudice still exists.
Whatever past MPs might think, the House has done well. Will their example inspire similar grace in others who still refuse to accept the reality of loving, faithful, samesex relationships?
Next month the General Synod/te Hinota Whanui of the Anglican Church in Aotearoa, New Zealand, and Polynesia, after years of argument, will consider legislation which, while retaining a formal description of marriage as being between a man and a woman, will allow individual bishops to authorise the blessing of samesex relationships.
Paradoxical? Yes. The logical doctrinal approach to marriage, for a religion that claims all humans are made in the image of God, would be to endorse, as The Episcopal Church (USA) and the Scottish Episcopal Church have (and the Church of Scotland is considering), both heterosexual and samesex marriage: discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation implies that nonheterosexual people aren’t human.
But some Christians (and others) still, rejecting reason, cling blindly to rules evolved, millennia ago, by wandering Arameans.
Paradoxes are part of life. This one could let the church, at last, take a small step towards growing up.