God, my wife and the government: Defining marriage

Jan. 2009, Religion Dispatches

By Krista Kapralos

If Nicholas Hansen cheats on Alissa Swanciger, he’ll owe her 1,000 silver dollars. The penalty is set forth in their marriage contract, the one they presented two years ago to a county clerk in Grand Junction, Colorado. It’s the only document they signed that day.

Christopher Hansen, Nicholas Hansen’s father, presided over the ceremony. He’s not a minister, and he’s not certified to perform weddings. That didn’t matter, Nicholas Hansen said, “According to our contract, we were married.”

Heartfelt vows, a private contract and a few witnesses are all that’s required to be married in God’s eyes, he said. The couple asked the county clerk to file a copy of their contract to make public the fact that they were now bound by marriage. In Colorado, where requirements for common law marriage are unusually lax, that was enough.

But the couple never applied for a formal marriage license, Christopher Hansen said. They didn’t ask permission from the government to get married. Instead, they were married then asked the government to help them publicize the fact. That’s how it used to be done, he said, before the government co-opted marriage, a sacred union created by God. Read more

Faith and rights intersect at end of life

Nov. 2008, The Herald

By Krista Kapralos

In the debate over physician-assisted suicide, there are two clear arguments.

One is: Life is sacred, and the divine timing of death should not be tampered with.

The other is: Life is sacred, and the decision of how to spend one’s final moments is personal.

The debate would have been unthinkable for past generations, whose doctors could do little to stave off life’s final certainty.

Now, modern medicine is powerful enough to stretch life’s last moments into days, weeks, even months or years. But when should someone say, “Enough”?

When is it OK to die? Read more

The cost of dying

Oct. 2008, The Herald

By Krista Kapralos

Beth Chowen beat a brain tumor last year.

Doctors found it in June, and by the end of summer, the 64-year-old Everett preschool owner was back on her feet, ready to begin her retirement years.

In November, the tumor was back again. It worked like a thief, quietly and quickly, and within months it had robbed Beth Chowen of her ability to move, to live in her own home, even to speak.

At first, Medicare paid for everything, her husband, Terrence Chowen, said. Doctors said there was nothing more they could do. Medicare pulled out, he said.

“Medicare would only cover it if you were recuperating or while there’s hope that you might recuperate,” Chowen said. Read more