Following the Lord, Following the Law

An August 22 post on the Wall Street Journal’s Law Blog reported on the outcome of a closely watched case involving a lesbian couple who sued a New Mexico photographer named Elaine Huguenin for refusing to photograph their commitment ceremony on the grounds that such an act would violate her religious beliefs. The Alliance Defending Freedom, which defended Elaine and her husband Jonathan, put out a press release in which one of their attorneys stated, “Americans are now on notice that the price of doing business is their freedom. We are considering our next steps, including asking the U.S. Supreme Court to right this wrong.”

My interest in this case stems not only from the Supreme Court’s recent rulings in the cases of United States v. Windsor and Hollingsworth v. Perry but also because like Mr. and Mrs. Huguenin, I profess to be a Christian and in fact I attended the same college as they did. Elaine was in my graduating class and her husband John was one year ahead of me. I did not keep in touch with them after graduation but heard about them occasionally through mutual friends.

At first glance, the New Mexico Supreme Court’s decision to uphold the lower court’s ruling against the Huguenin’s seems to be a clear infringement upon their right to practice their religion as guaranteed by the First Amendment of the Constitution. The Huguenin’s interpret their faith as compelling them to disavow same-sex relationships and as such does Elaine not have the right to tell the government to buzz off and mind their own business? Elaine’s decision to refuse services to the couple might even find grounding in the Apostle Peter’s words in Acts 5:29 when he tells the religious authorities that, “We must obey God rather than man.”

And then there’s the issue of artistic freedom. Few would doubt that Elaine is a gifted photographer and part of the reason she is excellent at her craft is because of the creative freedom she enjoys. I don’t know any artist who would want the government telling them that they have to paint with a particular type of paint or only take photographs of certain landscapes. Art is a form of free speech guaranteed by the Constitution and that is why to this day someone can paint an offensive caricature of the President or some other elected official and not be dragged off to jail.

But Elaine is not just a Christian and she is not just an artist. She is the owner of a business that operates within the State of New Mexico in the United States of America. Elaine’s business is therefore subject to the laws governing how businesses and other organizations operate in that state, and in this case, the New Mexico Human Rights act. The New Mexico Supreme Court said in its opinion:

“When Elane Photography refused to photograph a same-sex commitment ceremony, it violated the NMHRA in the same way as if it had refused to photograph a wedding between people of different races,"

Not too long ago church-going owners of stores, movie theaters, and restaurants could refuse service to people of different races. Much of these business owners’ refusal was based on their interpretation of Scripture and the beliefs held by their local congregations.

Some people might argue that being gay is not the same as being Black or Latino or Asian. And, to some degree, they are absolutely right. However, the price we pay for living in this republic is that a white person cannot refuse to serve a black person in his restaurant, a Catholic cannot refuse to rent a Jew a motel room, and a Polish woman cannot refuse to cut the hair of a German man. And for most of us, this is a small and hopefully agreeable price to pay.

Yes, Elaine is an artist and as such should have the ability to enjoy artistic freedom. One could also compellingly argue that a chef is an artist as well and thus should be able to refuse service to particular individuals as Elaine and her husband sought to do. And, of course, the answer in both cases is simple. If you want to take pictures, go ahead and do so. If you want to create delicious dishes, have at it. But if you want to do any of these things while offering a public accommodation engaged in interstate commerce, you cannot refuse service to individuals based upon their race, color, gender, religion, national origin, and increasingly more common- their sexual orientation.

I get that this is a tricky situation. No one wants to be called a racist or bigot, especially when they are certainly not one of those things. I, too, wrestle with my faith and my obligation to follow the law every time I write a check to the IRS and realize that part of the money I am sending to the government is allowing them to conduct drone strikes overseas that I find not only reprehensible but contrary to the teachings of Jesus, whom I worship and adore.

And so, ultimately, Elaine and I find myself in similar situations, searching the Scriptures for some aspect of wisdom or insight that might provide guidance in our respective instances and hoping that our beliefs will fall on the right side of God's unfolding story. To what extent do we render unto Caesar’s what is Caesar’s? How deep must we love others as Christ has loved us? Are we choosing to obey God rather than man or are we allowing our particular conception of God to justify the unjust treatment of others?

I do not pretend to know all of the answers to these things and that’s why I’ll keep paying my taxes, always try to err on the side of love, and start each day by praying for a world that is more just and kind and gracious.  

Lord, in your mercy.

North Carolina's Road to Hell

These days, people should begin realizing that the road to hell isn't paved with good intentions, but rather with whatever asphalt mixture coats the interstates leading into Raleigh, NC.

Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove, a man who could teach us a few things about Christian discipleship, had this stunning quote in this APM Marketplace Story. Wilson-Hartgrove states,

“I don't mean to say these people aren't committed to Jesus and to Christianity,” Wilson-Hartgrove said. “I mean to say, as a pastor always has to say to people at some times, that they're gravely wrong and that if they do not repent, they will go to hell. And unfortunately because they're leading our state right now, our whole state will go to hell.” 

The "these people" Wilson-Hartgrove refers to are the Republican state legislators and leaders who are driving the state known as a "valley of humility between two mountains of conceit" (sorry Virginia and South Carolina) as far to the political extreme as possible. From enacting ridiculous (and perhaps classist and racist) voting laws to saddling the state's financial liabilities on the backs of the most vulnerable, the Republican state legislature hasn't even so much as blushed while ramming their radical agenda through Raleigh.

A statewide protest movement, led by the state NAACP, has begun converging on Raleigh each week in what are being called Moral Mondays. A sizable group of peaceful protestors (many of them clergy) have even been arrested while non-violently demonstrating in state capitol. The Republican legislators have not been amused, one even going so far to calling these protests as "Moron Mondays."

And that is why Wilson-Hartgrove made the statement that he did- one that surely disturbs most of us. Americans generally don't like being told that they are going to hell. Indeed, fire and brimstone preaching has been blamed for Americans' continuing mass exodus from the church. But Wilson-Hartgrove is too clever a theologian to be so sloppy with his rhetoric.

Perhaps Wilson-Hartgrove remembers the story Jesus told in Luke 16:19-31 in which a poor man named Lazarus dies and is carried to Abraham's side. A rich man, indifferent to the plight of Lazarus, also dies but is sent to Hades for his recalcitrant behavior. The rich man begs Abraham to send Lazarus down to him so that he may cool his tongue with a drop of water. Abraham, however, refuses the rich man's request, reminding him of his irresponsibly lavish lifestyle on earth.

I don't think that Jesus had it in his mind that this story should evoke within our minds images of Dante's Inferno. Rather, I think Jesus hoped that his audience (both then and now) recognized that the nature of the rich man's request highlighted the true torment of hell, that is to live in a place where you expect the poor to be at your disposal and you demand a certain type of treatment based upon a contrived view of yourself. The rich man didn't ask Abraham to let Lazarus know that he was sorry for ignoring his plight while on earth. Instead, even in the afterlife, the rich man views Lazarus as an inferior individual to be used for his own pleasure and purposes, perhaps poor due to a perceived laziness or upbringing on the part of the beggar.

The genius of Jesus' story is that while he presents the idea of hell within a parable, he does not want listeners to assume that hell is simply an abstract concept. For Jesus and his followers, hell is very real indeed.

Hell is an elderly individual with arthritic knees who waits three hours in a line to vote only to be turned away because she does not have the "proper identification." Hell is balancing a state's checkbook on the backs of teachers, the uninsured, and the unemployed because you assume that they are lazy and addicted to hand outs. Hell is arguing against the "redistribution of wealth" when it comes in the form of food stamps and medicaid expansion but welcoming it with open arms when it is presented under the guise of corporate tax breaks and deductions for high income earners. Hell is when we begin to think even for one second that the best way to enrich ourselves is to trample on others around us because their voice does not matter as much ours and their lives are not as valuable as our own.

And with such a view of the world and of the people who populate it, the love of God is stillborn, absent, exiled from our existence. This is hell in its most brazen and terrifying reality.

We might pray that the NC state legislature changes their behavior and begins working to ensure that the state handles its business in a fair, just, and honest fashion. There is no shortage of intelligence within their ranks to make this happen. However, such actions take humility, contriteness, and other attributes all too often exiled from our modern political system.

For this reason, perhaps it is incorrect to assume that God ever sends anyone to hell when it appears that we are perfectly capable of finding the way there on our own.

 

The Saint Who Made Soup

Bon dia Señor Mario! The joy in the child's voice sails across the cement pavement and kisses the cheek of a white wispy haired man caught midway into adjusting his glasses. Turning slowly to face his small friend, the man displays a giant grin of affection, honored to have received such a fine gift. Bon dia, Bon dia he laughs, waving his wrinkled arm in a grateful salute. The child scampers off and Marion Way does what he has always done for the past forty nine years- he gets to work.

Standing a mere 5'7" with a thin frame and a slight hunch, Marion Way does not strike you as the type of person who was once a political prisoner of the Portuguese provincial government of Angola. During the Angolan war of liberation in 1961, Marion- then a freshly minted missionary- found himself incarcerated for a brief time as the Portuguese cracked down on the American missionaries who were thought to be sympathizers of the rebel insurgency. Eventually freed from captivity, Marion and his wife were given the option of either setting up shop in Japan or Brazil. Not wanting his Portuguese to go to waste (and admittedly dreading having to learn Japanese), Marion and Anita landed in Brazil in 1962 and buried their hearts and lives deep into the side of the oldest hillside slum in Rio de Janeiro.

If you ever visit the slum where Marion has spent the better part of his life, you'll find an assortment of cement and brick structures stacked high on top of each other like a high stakes game of Jenga. This is Providence Hill and until just a few years ago the drug lords and their cronies made it a dangerous place for unwelcome outsiders to visit. The slum sits on prime real estate just a brisk walk from Rio's modern downtown and next door to the bustling dockyards that feed South America's largest country. It is here that a man by the name of Dr. Clarence Tucker founded the Insituto Central do Povo (ICP) in 1906 as part of the Methodist church's first foray into area. Originally a place for illiterate dock workers to come and gain an education, the Institute grew over 100 years to be an integral part of the slum's existence and social identity. Perhaps no person has contributed more to that transformation than Marion.

Marion trudges through the front door of ICP's main building, a soaring stone plantation house built before the first shots were fired at Lexington and Concord, and sets up his office. Officially retired for over a decade now, Marion's work space consists of wherever he can find an open table and chair. Scuffling past workers who have known Marion for well over twenty years, he receives a monsoon of affectionate greetings and responds with his own shower of salutations. Upon finding an open table, Marion begins unpacking his black attaché and readying the tools- a notepad, cell phone, and datebook- that he will need for a couple hours of work. Then, like a chef who has gathered all of his ingredients begins to blend them together in a bowl, Marion stirs his illegible scribble into phone conversations covering everything from fundraising for ICP to a group of Americans who wish to come for a visit.

Marion trudges through the front door of ICP's main building, a soaring stone plantation house built before the first shots were fired at Lexington and Concord, and sets up his office. Officially retired for over a decade now, Marion's work space consists of wherever he can find an open table and chair. Scuffling past workers who have known Marion for well over twenty years, he receives a monsoon of affectionate greetings and responds with his own shower of salutations. Upon finding an open table, Marion begins unpacking his black attaché and readying the tools- a notepad, cell phone, and datebook- that he will need for a couple hours of work. Then, like a chef who has gathered all of his ingredients begins to blend them together in a bowl, Marion stirs his illegible scribble into phone conversations covering everything from fundraising for ICP to a group of Americans who wish to come for a visit.

When Marion offers you some of his homemade soup, you should prepare yourself for an experience. Marion's granddaughter, Julia, describes her grandfather's soup making skills as a kind of going out of business sale for the refrigerator- everything must go. Eschewing traditional soup combinations of vegetables and beef or chicken and noodles, Marion's soup recipe begins by clearing out the fridge. No ingredient is lowly enough to be ostracized from the pot and the end result is a goulash whose contents, while not understanding their final composure, conclude that in Marion's way of cooking, they are an important part of the recipe.Marion's cooking skills reveal much about his personal philosophy of ministry. Stories abound in the slum of how Señor Mario did not say "no" when someone needed to be included in his care. 

A picture of Marion taken a few years ago depicts him midway into a laugh, his left arm wrapped around a young girl happily hiding behind his lanky frame. The scene reminds one of a parent taking his child to visit Santa Clause at the mall. The parent smiles to demonstrate that all is well but the child still scuttles behind the safety of her protector, hand covering her face, embracing a strange mixture of excitement and uncertainty. The young girl was a frequent visitor to the Institute's outreach programs until she had the misfortune of witnessing a horrendous crime that put her on the hit list of the drug lords who controlled the hill. The girl's mother sought the help of Marion who quickly worked out for her to go live with a friend in a different part of the city outside of the reach of those who wanted her dead.Marion's ethic of inclusion extends to animals as well. Stray dogs find their way into Marion's car and eventually into the care of families willing to watch over them. Marion has a heart for strays and this is evident by the company he keeps. One year during a Father's Day celebration, Marion pulled close a young Brazilian who had come to the Institute as an orphan and proclaimed to everyone that he had the honor of being the young man's "father." The young man was touched by Marion's words and recognized the way that his “father” had always looked out for him by sending odd jobs his way during tough times and even assisting with his schooling.

It would be an impossible task to catalog the number of strays taken in by Marion. But if this is any indication of the amount, when Marion made the steep climb up the hill seven years ago what should have been a ten minute walk half way up the hill turned into a four hour celebration as the slum's residents came out to greet their beloved Señor Mario. Drug lords, mothers, orphaned children- all of them feel comfortable approaching Marion because they know that in his presence, they are more than tolerated, they are welcomed and treated with all of the respect and courtesy one would expect for a dignitary or celebrity. When one sees Marion interact with the diversity of people whom he is honored to call a friend, the sheer genuineness of the interaction is immediately evident. This generosity displayed by Marion is not a ruse but rather a virtue cultivated over years of habit forming hospitality and seasoned with a love that most of us will never experience due to our own personal prejudices and inhibitions. Sanctification seeps out of Marion's pores and protracts an aura of saintliness like that of St. Francis of Assisi or Mother Teresa. Just like them, Marion never could find it in himself to turn anyone away and this inability to exclude has been the secret ingredient of his ministry at ICP. Call Marion what you will, but please do not call him a hero. As Sam Wells writes, "The hero's story is always about the hero. The saint is always at the periphery of a story that is really about God." Marion's gift is that he understands his humble role in directing the hungry to a God who seeks out strays be they missing sheep, coins, or sons.

There are too few saints in this world but I am convinced that Señor Mario is one of them. I received news yesterday that this Godly man is nearing the end of his life and this pains my heart more than words will allow me to say. Marion Way is a saint who, in his walk with God, learned Jesus’ divine recipe for soup and practiced it every day of his life. May we be faithful in following this recipe as Marion did.   

Following Jesus Scared S#@T-Less

Last week I had coffee with someone who recently started attending my church. He is returning to explore his faith after a decades-long hiatus from organized religion. His candidness was refreshing and at one point in the conversation he said, "Honestly, sometimes Jesus scares the $#&T out of me." I responded, "yeah, me too."

We laughed and shook hands and then returned to our respective places of work- him to a non-profit, me to a building where this intimidating Jesus character is revered and worshiped.

If we’re doing this Christianity thing right, I think there comes a point in our faith experience in which we’re confronted with an unsettling picture of Jesus that sends us scrambling to see if our decision to marry our lives to this misunderstood Jew came with a prenuptial agreement.

We like the Jesus who invites the five thousand for dinner and beckons babies into into his presence. We are terrified when that same Jesus tells us to get the food ready and alerts us that we’re on diaper duty.

C.S. Lewis illustrated the dilemma facing followers of Jesus when his character Lucy asks a beaver (this is a fantasy story so chill out) about a mysterious lion named Aslan who has come to free the land of Narnia from an evil spell. “Is he safe,” Lucy asks in reference to this powerful lion. “Of course he isn’t safe,” responds the beaver, “but he’s good.”

As a pastor, I am torn between the wishful thinking of presenting a faith that will not alienate and the truthful picture of a Jesus who isn’t always the most palatable person in the room.

You cannot have the sweet baby in the manger without also accepting the agitator who called out Pilate’s smarmy political games. You cannot revel in the one who calmed the seas without welcoming the teacher who did not hesitate to tell the rich young ruler to go and sell everything he had and give the proceeds to the poor. If you want the Jesus who seeks out the lost sheep, you must also have the Jesus who warns Peter in a vision not to call anything that God has made unclean, even if your tradition and Holy Scriptures seem to tell you otherwise.

When and if you decide to follow this Jesus, you always run the risk that he will tell you do some something completely foolish with your life. I have several people a week tell me that they wonder whether or not God is calling them to do a particular thing but perhaps it is simply a passing thought because it sounds even crazier now that it’s being said out loud. I shrug my shoulders and then ask if I can pray that they would have the courage to embrace a little craziness now and then.

It's okay to confess that we wake up each morning anxious where Jesus might ask us to follow him next, what platform of our political beliefs he might challenge us to change, and which way he might coax us to donate money that we'd rather save for a rainy day. Some might say this is evidence of spiritual immaturity. I call it being honest.

And so I will wake up tomorrow at my usual time. And over a bowl of cereal I will pause to collect my thoughts and sigh when I realize that with Jesus, safety is never guaranteed. As I clear my dishes and grab my keys from the dresser, I will say a quick prayer thanking God for being good. Because for now, the promise of goodness is enough to keep me following Jesus, regardless of how scared $#&T-less I might be.

An Open Letter to Indiana Wesleyan University

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The Childish Argument Against Same Sex Marriage

Since my visit to witness the activity surrounding Proposition 8 and DOMA at the Supreme Court last week, I've been reflecting on one of the refrains voiced by supporters of keeping marriage between one man and one woman. This argument builds on both natural law arguments and portions of the Bible to posit that since gay couples cannot conceive children on their own due to biological restrictions, their unions cannot properly be called “marriage,” since one of the prerequisites for marriage is the ability to conceive children or, in other words, to experience fruitfulness.

While there might be other compelling arguments for while marriage should be between one man and one woman, I find the aforementioned reasoning problematical. Here’s why:

1.   The argument places a premium on naturally conceived children in a way that undercuts the narrative of Gentiles’ adoption by God- It’s no secret that we Gentiles came late to the “God game.” Jesus reminds the Woman at the Well in John 4:22 that “Salvation is from the Jews,” a theme picked up by the Apostle Paul in Romans 11:17 when he writes that, “But if some of the branches were broken off, and you, (Gentiles), a wild olive shoot, were grafted in their place to share the rich root of the olive tree, do not boast over the branches.”  Paul goes onto write in verse 24 of that same chapter, “For if you have been cut from what is by nature a wild olive tree and grafted, contrary to nature, into a cultivated olive tree, how much more will these natural branches be grafted back into their own olive tree?” Paul’s purpose in this passage is to ward off any haughtiness in the Gentile Christians’ hearts and remind them that they were grafted (contrary to nature, no less!) into the family of God. Paul will later use the language of adoption in Ephesians 1:5 to echo this theme. Paul’s position points to a family of God constituted by children “naturally conceived” (via Abraham) and those adopted (Gentiles). I would argue that the Christianunderstanding of marriage is about holiness before it is about conceiving children. Marriages are, in a way, micro intentional communities by which we are challenged to become more like Jesus. When married couples have children, their intentional community expands to include these new members. Thus, for these communities, whether they are populated by new members entrusted to us by blood or by baptism is perhaps inconsequential it in light of the type of family construction God presents to us in Scripture.

2.   The argument diminishes children brought into our marriages and families through other means- Preachers like to quote the book of Esther when it comes time to raise money for a new church roof or to replace the sanctuary carpet. After all, what better way to get people to open their wallets than by prodding them with the notion that God has blessed them with a hefty bank account balance “for such a time as this.” (Esther 4:14)? Nevertheless, the book of Esther presents us with another important lesson on the construction of family. Keep in mind that there is no Hebrew word for “adoption” and the concept of adoption is found nowhere else in the Old Testament. However, for some reason, perhaps a situation born out of the Jews’ exile, Mordecai takes his cousin Esther into his family.  The two make an odd family at that. Mordecai does not appear to be married and no information is given regarding the disappearance of Esther’s father or mother. However, this rather strange family ultimately saves the Jewish people throughout the kingdom of Persia. While this narrative certainly has no direct parallel to the sanctioning of same-sex unions, it does ask us to reconsider our notion of family and children, even when it flies in the face of our tightly held traditions and social constructs.

3.   The argument potentially transforms the act of conceiving children into a self-serving rather than a self-giving act- I know more than a few married couples who were not able to conceive children through natural means. Some turned to adoption, some redirected their energies and time towards deeper service to God, and others spent anywhere from ten to fifteen thousand dollars on an in vitro fertilization procedure. I do not want to make a value judgment on individuals who choose to spend thousands of dollars to conceive a child, but I do wonder if individuals sometimes make these choices because we in the church have developed false constructs of what marriage is for and what marriage should look like. Namely, when we make the ability (or possibility) to conceive children the litmus test of what may or may not be called marriage, are we not indirectly (at the very least) inculcating into couples a proclivity towards pursuing expensive treatments to bring a child into the world over the consideration of the countless children who will spend the rest of their lives being ping ponged throughout a troubled foster care system?

This is the dilemma of discipleship undercutting the entire argument. If the purpose of married couples conceiving children naturally is to populate the earth (this doesn't seem to be as much of a problem as it was in the Old Testament- I’m just saying), carry on our personal legacy, or give validity to our marriages, then the act of conception risks being birthed in a seed of self-service. In other words, we need this child to give our marriage meaning. However, if the arrival of children into a marriage is an act of giving- I am giving this life a chance, I am creating the possibility for making the world a better place through this life, our marriage has created a loving space for this life- then the introduction of children into our marriages becomes something completely different- it becomes almost sacramental and therefore dependent on God’s actions and not ours.

I don’t deny that opponents of same sex marriage might have other arguments for their cause. However, I also believe that any argument against same-sex marriage predicated on the possibility of conceiving children is a faulty one in light of God’s story told through Scripture.  The story of God continues to confound us, surprise us, and challenge our conception of existence. Things unclean become clean. The unnatural becomes the status quo. The tick tock of death hanging over our heads becomes muffled by the roar of a stone rolled away on Easter morning.  And maybe, just maybe, our marriages move us closer to the vision of God’s good future where our children begin to look less like they were the products of our own striving for self-validation, and more the abundance of God’s grace in our lives. 

Keeping Love Supreme

The young mother held the hands of her two children as they watched the spectacle unfold. Not twenty feet away a mass of people assembled in  front of the nation’s highest court waving signs in support of marriage equality while others brandished banners declaring the opposite. I approached the woman and asked what she and her children were doing here. I learned that they were from Minnesota and were passing through DC on a spring break trip. “I wanted my kids to see this piece of history,” the mother said, “After all, this is about civil rights and without civil rights my family wouldn’t be possible.” As she spoke these words she wiggled her right arm jostling her daughter’s attention away the sidewalk. The child was African American. The woman was white.

Visiting the Supreme Court on the day that they entertained oral arguments regarding the constitutionality of California’s Proposition 8 left me with mixed emotions. On one hand, it was a tremendous example of the power of free speech within the public square. On the other hand, it was a sobering reminder of how some people choose to utilize that right while claiming that the exercise thereof carries with it God’s imprimatur.

What struck me most was that the supporters of same sex marriage, many of whom would not profess to be Christians, spoke more of love than those opposed to same sex marriage, most of whom would profess to be Christians. I’m not talking about Westboro Baptist folks here either (although a contingent of their group was present). A large Marriage March organized by the National Organization for Marriage filled the block with signs that, while not promulgating hate, nevertheless did nothing to proclaim the richness and fullness of God’s love. Instead, this group waved signs declaring, “Kids do best with mom & dad.” While I will not denigrate the salubrious effects of two parent homes, I am also keenly aware that some single parent homes might desire to quibble over the mechanics of such a phrase.

However, the point is not to belabor a conversation on what is "best" (although this would be interesting and even useful), but rather to note that nowhere in the messages propagated by these Christian demonstrators was there any mention of God’s love. Switch over to the other side of the block and there were plenty of signs declaring that “God loves love” and “Marriage is Love Commitment & Family.”  If I were an outsider looking in, I would wonder why the word “love” was MIA in the Christian demonstrators’ vocabulary when love seems to be such a central theme to their understanding of God and subsequently, their faith.

I also wondered about the parallels between the Christians who opposed civil rights in the 1960’s and the Christians who are perceived to be opposing civil rights in 2013. Regardless of whether or not Christians perceive gay rights to be coterminous with civil rights, a large contingent of Americans are starting to make this connection and my conversation with the mother from Minnesota highlights this ongoing shift in thinking. The average American is not interested in debating the merits of Leviticus 19 and it’s getting to the point where even a third grader can grasp the incongruity between demanding strict adherence to certain tenets of Levitical law while completely disregarding others. Some might find it ironic that the early church received persecution in part due to its emphasis on equal treatment of all people- a tremendous treat to a Roman Empire built on a hefty class system.

As I was leaving the rally, I passed a father and his two teenage sons, clearly tourists, watching the Marriage March unfold before them. After a few moments, the father turned away and began walking towards the Capitol building. “Come on guys,” he said, “We’ve seen enough intolerance for one day.”

Look up “pyrrhic victory” in the dictionary in a few years when those teenage boys can vote or decide whether or not to attend church and you might just find the faces of the folks who organized the marriage march today.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. famously said, “I have decided upon love because hate is too great a burden to bear.” Regardless of your position on the issue of same sex marriage, let Dr. King’s words be the platform from which you base your entire argument. Anything less is a one way ticket to the obscure corners of history in this life and in the next.