How long before we have, not just homosexual marriage, but

Hear the words of Randall Terry, spoken with a thunder that stirs controversy: “How long before we have, not just homosexual marriage, but homosexual unions between adult men and small boys?” This utterance, stark and incendiary, reflects the fear of a man who sees moral boundaries dissolving. He draws a line of warning, suggesting that the acceptance of same-sex marriage will not end there, but may open the door to ever greater transgressions, until even innocence itself is endangered. His words are not gentle, but they reveal the deep unease of those who fear the collapse of the moral order.

The meaning of his statement lies in the slippery slope he imagines. Terry equates the recognition of homosexual unions with the erosion of laws and traditions that protect the young, asking how long it will be before society, having redefined marriage, goes further still. To him, the acceptance of one form of union outside of tradition risks making all unions negotiable, even those which, by their nature, are exploitative and harmful. His warning, though spoken with exaggeration, reveals the tension between those who champion expanding rights and those who see danger in altering long-held institutions.

The origin of such fears stretches back through history. In times of great social change, voices often arise to declare that the breaking of one boundary will lead to chaos. When women sought the vote, some argued it would destroy the family. When interracial marriage was debated, opponents declared it would erode civilization itself. In each case, fears of corruption and collapse were used to resist new freedoms. Terry’s words stand in this same lineage of alarm, yet they strike deeper, for they invoke the specter of harm to children, a sacred line no society dares to cross.

History itself gives a clear example of this fear. In ancient Rome and Greece, where practices of mentorship sometimes blurred into exploitation, critics from within and without decried the corruption of youth. Later, when Christianity spread through the empire, it drew sharp lines, condemning such practices as destructive to both body and soul. This shift was not only about faith but about safeguarding the vulnerable. Terry’s words call back to this ancient concern: that society must guard its children, lest the collapse of norms expose them to harm.

Yet it is also true that Terry’s warning blends truth with distortion. To conflate same-sex marriage—a union of consenting adults—with exploitation of children is to confuse two very different realities. One is rooted in love and mutual choice, the other in domination and abuse. Many who support marriage equality argue precisely that the protection of children and the expansion of adult rights can coexist, and that justice demands careful distinctions, not fearful conflations. Thus, his words reveal more about his dread than about the realities of the movement he opposed.

The lesson is this: in times of change, beware both extremes. On one side, do not allow fear to so dominate your heart that you mistake justice for corruption, or confuse freedom with license. On the other, do not be so eager for progress that you dismiss the need for boundaries that protect the vulnerable. Equality must be pursued, yes—but it must walk hand in hand with wisdom, ensuring that love is free without endangering innocence.

So, children of tomorrow, take heed. When debates rage about marriage, rights, and freedoms, listen deeply. Seek not only passion but discernment. Defend the vulnerable always, but do not let fear twist truth into distortion. Ask not only, “What may happen if we change?” but also, “What harm comes if we do not?” For only by weighing both questions with care can a society move forward in justice. Let your speech be careful, your wisdom deep, and your heart both compassionate and vigilant. In this way, you will honor both freedom and responsibility, and ensure that your civilization does not lose its soul.