The SBC voted yesterday to not just oppose same-sex marriage (that’s old news), but to work toward banning it. Because when you think “the hands and feet of Jesus,” you definitely think, How can we make sure two people in love can’t get married?
The resolution urges lawmakers to “pass laws that reflect the truth of creation and natural law — about marriage, sex, human life, and family” and to oppose laws that contradict “what God has made plain through nature and Scripture.”
Ah yes, my favorite phrase: “What God has made plain.”
I always get a little twitchy when people say that. Not because I don’t believe in truth — I do. Not because I don’t love Scripture — I do. It’s just that, historically, what’s been “plain” to religious gatekeepers has had an unfortunate tendency to shift over time.
Slavery? Once plain.
Segregation? Plain as day.
Keeping women out of leadership? Plain, still on sale in aisle 3.
And now, denying LGBTQ+ people the right to marry? Apparently, that’s plain too.
What’s “plain” to some often depends on where they’re standing, who they’re listening to, and what they’ve been taught to see.
When people say, “It’s plain in nature and Scripture,” it often functions less as an invitation to seek understanding and more as a way to end the conversation — to shut down curiosity, complexity, and most of all, dissent.
I grew up Southern Baptist. I led Southern Baptist churches. I was trained in Southern Baptist seminaries. I loved the people. I still do. I also loved the Bible I was taught to read and wrestle with — a Bible full of stories where God consistently surprises us, calls us to love bigger, and often works through the very people we were told to exclude.
Over time, I became affirming. Not because the culture pushed me, but because the Gospel pulled me. I listened to LGBTQ+ Christians. I studied Scripture with new eyes. I prayed. I questioned. I changed.
It wasn’t easy. It cost me relationships and eventually my place in a church I once called home.
But I’ve never regretted moving toward love.
What’s Actually Happening Here
Let’s be clear: the SBC working to ban same-sex marriage isn’t about protecting “natural law.” It’s about enforcing their particular version of it.
It’s one thing to hold a belief inside your church walls. That’s your right. It’s another thing to try to legislate it onto everyone else. That’s called theocracy, and last I checked, America wasn’t supposed to be one.
Religious freedom means you get to practice your faith — and so does your neighbor, even if their faith (or their marriage) looks different from yours. That’s the deal. That’s the country we say we love. Or at least, it’s supposed to be.
But apparently, some aren’t satisfied unless their particular brand of righteousness is the law of the land.
The Witness Left Behind
What grieves me most is that this kind of move — loud, forceful, certain — is exactly the kind of move that makes people walk away from faith altogether.
I know. I’ve sat with them.
I’ve heard their stories.
I’ve seen the ache in their eyes.
And here’s the hard truth: the SBC can pass all the resolutions it wants. It can work the legislative angles, it can vote, it can posture, it can campaign.
But you know what it can’t do?
It can’t stop love.
Love will outlast this.
Affirming churches will outlast this.
LGBTQ+ marriages will outlast this.
The Jesus who shatters dividing walls will outlast every committee that keeps trying to build them back up.
So when Clint Pressley, the second term President of the SBC, says, “It is good to be a Southern Baptist,” I can only offer a polite smile and a quiet, “Bless your heart.”
It’s good to be on the side of love.
It’s good to be with the people who’ve been told they don’t belong — because they always have.
Also? It’s really good to have brunch without looking over your shoulder.
The above pic is of Sully, the service dog who belonged to President George H.W. Bush.
Phillip Wright 