But I think it's up to a local congregation to determine whether

“But I think it’s up to a local congregation to determine whether or not a marriage should be blessed of God. And it shouldn’t be up to the government.” — Thus spoke Tony Campolo, a theologian and moral teacher who walked the delicate boundary between faith and politics, conscience and law. His words, simple yet profound, are a defense of one of civilization’s oldest and most sacred truths — that faith belongs to the heart, and not to the state; that the realm of the divine cannot be commanded by decree. In these lines, Campolo calls for humility in power, and for the freedom of the spirit to discern without coercion.

The meaning of this quote rests upon the ancient principle of separation between church and state, a principle born not of hostility, but of harmony. Campolo’s plea is not for the weakening of religion, but for its preservation. For when government seeks to define what is “blessed of God,” faith becomes corrupted by politics, and sacred love is reduced to legality. He argues that such matters — of marriage, of blessing, of moral worth — belong to the conscience of believers and the community of worship, not to bureaucrats or lawmakers. The state may regulate contracts and civil rights, but it cannot determine divine favor, for that is the domain of the soul.

To understand the origin of these words, one must see them in their time. Campolo spoke during the height of the American debate over same-sex marriage, when political factions sought to define marriage through the force of law. While others took sides with fiery rhetoric, Campolo chose a gentler but firmer path — affirming that religion must not be wielded as a weapon of state power. His conviction was rooted in the teaching of Christ Himself, who said, “Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and unto God the things that are God’s.” Thus, Campolo’s stance was not rebellion, but reverence — an insistence that the state should not intrude upon the sacred, nor the sacred dominate the state.

This struggle between spiritual freedom and political control is as old as civilization. Consider the story of Emperor Constantine, who in the fourth century united the Roman Empire under the banner of Christianity. Though his intentions were noble — to bring peace through faith — his act bound the altar to the throne, making religion a servant of empire. Over centuries, this union led to wars, persecutions, and divisions, as governments claimed divine authority. Campolo’s warning, then, is one learned through the blood and tears of history: when faith and power mingle too closely, both are diminished. The state loses justice; the church loses purity.

At the heart of Campolo’s reflection is the freedom of the congregation — the local body of believers who must discern for themselves what God blesses. This idea is deeply democratic in spirit, yet ancient in origin. It echoes the councils of the early church, where small communities gathered to pray, debate, and discern the will of God without kings or priests to dictate their belief. In this, Campolo restores the sacred autonomy of faith — that the divine cannot be legislated, but must be lived, examined, and embraced by the heart of the community.

His words also carry a challenge: that believers must bear the weight of their own moral discernment. To say that the government should not decide is to say that the faithful must. Freedom of religion demands responsibility. The local congregation must act not with prejudice, but with compassion and humility, seeking not to impose their truth, but to live it. Campolo reminds us that God’s blessing is not a political trophy to be distributed, but a spiritual mystery to be honored. To “bless” a marriage, in his view, is not to wield authority, but to recognize the divine presence in love itself — a presence that no law can grant or deny.

So, O listener, take this wisdom to heart. In a world eager to legislate what is sacred, guard the boundary between faith and power, for both lose their light when entangled. Let your beliefs guide your actions, but not dominate the freedoms of others. Let your faith remain pure, uncorrupted by ambition or fear. And remember always: what is “blessed of God” cannot be written into law or erased by decree — it is found in the depths of the heart, where love, conscience, and grace dwell in eternal dialogue.

Thus, in the spirit of Tony Campolo, cherish the freedom of both soul and society. Let your congregation, your community, and your conscience be the place where the sacred is discerned — not by command, but by compassion. For when the heart, and not the government, becomes the seat of blessing, faith shines brightest and the world stands freer.