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I support same-sex marriage.

I had the pleasure of taking part in a dear friend’s wedding a few weeks ago. It was beautiful, a perfect picture of marriage. My eyes filled with tears during the vows, seeing this couple so deeply in love pledge their lives to each other, with Christ as the center of their marriage. I often reflect on my own wedding day at weddings, which is what typically cues the waterworks, but this was different.

This wedding was special because it was two grooms who were proclaiming their love for each other and for Christ in front of their closest friends and family.

In some of my Christian social circles, I felt like I had to choose my words carefully when talking about the wedding. My more liberal, mostly non-Christian, friends were elated and we would chat at length about how meaningful the day was. With my more traditional Christian friends, I found myself being overly cautious about sharing at all. I genuinely wanted people to be as happy for my friends as I was, but I felt like I had to keep my excitement at bay and keep the peace because it wasn’t a marriage between a man and a woman, and sharing that information – and how I was involved in many aspects of the celebration of their love, throwing them a wedding shower and singing during the ceremony – would no doubt completely derail the conversation.

I often feel like I’m walking a tightrope because I support same-sex marriage.

I’ve had to sit through conversations where people have said things that infuriate me because they think same-sex marriage is an abomination. Abomination?! It’s 2015. We can send things to the cloud, order ice cream to be delivered directly to our front doors, dye our hair lavender, move fat from one part of the body to the other, but we can’t seem to collectively agree on same-sex marriage? How is that possible?

I’m happy to say that overall those who I spend time with, whatever their religious view may be, have a similar perspective to me. But I feel my cheeks get hot when I realize the person I’ve been talking with has an opposing view. I could stop them in our conversation and have them explain to me why they think God doesn’t want two men to get married (I swear if I hear one more, “It’s Adam & Eve, not Adam & Steve,” I will barf) but usually I realize, right before I go off on a tangent, that it’s a waste of breath and time.

I’ve been a Christian almost all of my life. I realized at an early age what a relationship with Christ meant: just because my parents were Christian didn’t mean they could save me by association. I have owned my faith. It was a similar journey as to how I came to support same-sex marriage. I kept coming back to the same bottom line: Christians are called to be in relationship.

My faith teaches me that God loves everyone; that God is a God of love, and love is the most important foundation of Christianity.

So why would God want my gay Christian friends to live a life where they cannot love who they want to love; where they should “pray the gay away” because it’s far easier - and more comfortable for everyone else – than being out and unashamed of whom they are? I find it funny that those who once wore the W.W.J.D bracelets quickly forget that if Jesus were on Earth today he would be hanging out with the whole LGBTQ community, not condemning them.

I’m happy to have relationships with people who don’t make me feel like I have to keep my mouth shut when it comes to same-sex marriage and that it’s the minority, not the majority, that make me feel like I need to bite my tongue or keep the peace.

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