In the months leading up to and since the recent Supreme Court decisions about same-sex marriage, I have held what I thought was a well-thought-out and unshakable opinion.
Actually two opinions – the first being that it’s none of my business since there is no way it will ever affect me directly.
That being said, I have strongly stated my belief that true love is a wonderful thing, and any couple in a monogamous relationship should be able to enjoy all the rights and privileges afforded any other couple.
My one caveat was that – while I supported same-sex couples’ right to civil unions – I thought that asking for a church wedding was wrong.
To ask the church to sanctify something which thousands of years of doctrine has called an abomination is something I simply could not support. A church that would perform such a ceremony would be betraying the very thing that made it a church.
Then, this morning, I had an epiphany.
I didn’t go blind like Saul on the road to Damascus, but I’m pretty sure I did see the light. I do know that I heard a voice.
“How,” it asked, “is performing a same-sex wedding any different from hosting a Crawfish Boil on the church grounds, or serving bacon at a prayer breakfast?”
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