I believe marriage is between a man and a woman. I am not in

Barack Obama, in the early years of his public journey, once declared: “I believe marriage is between a man and a woman. I am not in favor of gay marriage. But when you start playing around with constitutions, just to prohibit somebody who cares about another person, it just seems to me that’s not what America’s about. Usually, our constitutions expand liberties, they don’t contract them.” These words reveal a moment of tension, a meeting point between tradition and transformation, where personal conviction wrestled with the larger current of justice and freedom. They remind us that the law is not simply a reflection of personal belief, but a guardian of liberty for all.

When Obama speaks of marriage, he begins from the position of tradition, echoing the views held by many across centuries. Yet, immediately he moves beyond his private belief to a principle far greater: the sacred role of the constitution. For constitutions are not written to enshrine prejudice, nor to diminish the dignity of those who love. They exist to defend liberty against the winds of oppression. Thus, even while acknowledging his own hesitation, he proclaims that to use the highest law of the land to restrict rather than protect is to betray the very spirit of America.

The heart of his statement lies in this truth: liberties are meant to expand, not contract. From the birth of America, every amendment, every revision, every battle for justice has been a widening of the circle. Slavery abolished, women enfranchised, civil rights secured—again and again the constitution has stretched to embrace those once excluded. To reverse that trend, to carve into stone a denial of love and recognition, would be to turn the nation’s story backward, to replace its soaring music with a dirge of exclusion.

History offers us a mirror. In Loving v. Virginia (1967), the Supreme Court struck down laws prohibiting interracial marriage. Many at the time argued from tradition, from religion, even from fear. Yet the Court ruled that love and marriage could not be denied by the state on the basis of race. That decision expanded liberty, ensuring that the constitution lived up to its promise. Had the Court instead chosen to contract liberty, to enshrine racial prejudice into law, the nation’s very soul would have been diminished. Obama’s words echo this lesson: constitutions are for protection, not prohibition.

The origin of his statement reflects a transitional moment in America’s conscience. It was a time when the debate over gay marriage was fierce, when many leaders sought to write bans into constitutions, freezing prejudice into the very framework of law. Obama, even before his personal views evolved into full support of marriage equality, resisted this move. He recognized that to legislate against love was not only unwise but un-American. In this, his wisdom foreshadowed his later embrace of full equality, as the arc of his own beliefs bent toward justice.

The deeper meaning of his words is this: leadership is not only about personal faith, but about protecting the freedoms of all. One may hold private convictions, but when entrusted with the care of a nation, the greater duty is to ensure that no citizen is stripped of dignity by law. Obama reminds us that America’s greatness lies not in uniformity of belief, but in the widening of freedom’s embrace, so that all, regardless of whom they love, may find shelter beneath its promise.

The lesson for us is profound: when faced with difference, do not use the law as a weapon of exclusion. Guard your personal beliefs, but do not enshrine them at the expense of another’s liberty. Ask always: does this action expand freedom, or does it contract it? For the true measure of a society is whether its laws enlarge the dignity of its people or shrink it. And if you would be wise, choose always the path of expansion, for liberty is a flame that grows brighter the more it is shared.

Thus, Obama’s words, though spoken in caution, rise as a lantern for the generations: “Our constitutions expand liberties, they don’t contract them.” May we remember this always—that freedom is not safeguarded by walls of exclusion, but by bridges of inclusion. And may we, like the framers before us, like the judges in Loving, and like Obama himself in time, commit ourselves to the eternal task of expanding liberty until none are left outside its embrace.