The argument that gay marriage doesn't affect straight marriages

Hear the words of Ben Shapiro, who with fiery conviction declared: “The argument that gay marriage doesn’t affect straight marriages is a ridiculous red herring: gay marriage affects society and law in dramatic ways. Religious groups will come under direct assault as federal and state governments move to strip them of their non-profit statuses if they refuse to perform gay marriages.” These words, though clothed in controversy, speak to the ancient struggle between law and faith, between the evolving customs of society and the eternal claims of tradition.

The heart of his warning lies in this: that no change in law is ever contained to itself. Just as a stone cast into water sends ripples to every shore, so too a shift in the definition of marriage transforms not only the lives of those it touches directly, but the very pillars of society. To Shapiro, the debate was never only about one union or another; it was about the power of law to compel, and the power of tradition to resist. He saw in gay marriage not merely new rights, but a chain of consequences that would challenge the place of religious groups in the public sphere.

History shows us that such tensions are not new. Consider the clash between the early Christians and the Roman state. Rome demanded sacrifice to the gods as a sign of loyalty, but the Christians, bound by conscience, refused. To them, the law of Caesar could not override the law of their faith. They faced persecution, imprisonment, and death. Yet, their refusal to yield also reshaped Rome itself, until at last the empire bowed to the cross. This story shows the timeless conflict between law’s demand for conformity and faith’s demand for obedience to higher truth.

So too, Shapiro foresees a future in which religious groups may be commanded by the state to act against their beliefs or suffer punishment. Whether one agrees with him or not, his warning echoes an ancient fear: that the liberty to follow conscience may be eroded when the state expands its reach. The question then is not only about marriage, but about the boundaries of freedom—where the rights of one group end, and the rights of another begin.

Yet, it must also be said that every transformation in society brings with it both conflict and renewal. The abolition of slavery, the granting of women’s suffrage, the civil rights movement—each was seen in its day as a threat to existing order, as an upheaval of tradition. And yet, through struggle, new balances were found, and law grew to embrace greater justice. This truth reminds us that fear and resistance accompany every great change, but they also sharpen the questions that must be asked: What is liberty? What is justice? What must endure, and what must evolve?

The lesson, O seeker, is not merely to choose sides, but to recognize the weight of transformation. When law changes, it reshapes hearts and institutions. When society redefines its pillars, it tests the strength of its foundations. Thus, we must walk not with blindness, but with discernment. We must allow honest debate, resist the silencing of conscience, and seek paths where liberty for one does not become oppression for another.

Therefore, take practical wisdom from this: defend the right to speak, even for those with whom you disagree. Protect the freedom of conscience, for once lost, it is rarely regained. And as laws shift, do not retreat into anger, but engage with courage, clarity, and compassion. For the fate of a free society lies not in the absence of conflict, but in its ability to endure conflict without devouring itself.

Thus, remember the teaching behind Shapiro’s warning: whether or not we agree with his vision, he calls us to vigilance. For every law is a blade that cuts in two directions—granting rights on one hand, imposing duties on the other. And a wise people, if they wish to remain free, must always ask: What shall this law demand of us, and what will it cost? In that questioning lies the safeguard of liberty, and the path to peace.