The Redders & the Bluers
And it came to pass…
The upright and righteous discovered that Sin celebrated at the altar. The furor began in whispers as furors almost always do; but the utterance of the word “faggot” came only after the pitch grew fevered, and the Godly assumed victory. At the same time, faint murmurings, almost inaudible, circulated through more obscure congregational channels.
Cadillacs, Mercedes, and BMW sedans eased into the parking lot. Husbands and wives, mindful of the business at hand, nodded dourly to their friends as men and women, strangers to them, gathered around the periphery. They were the single-gender couples who, long before Oberfell v. Hodges, had committed themselves to each other come Hell, Highwater, or Parish Councils. Most were musicians, leading other beloveds in other sanctified spaces in other parts of the city, therefore generally unseen at these’s Sunday Solemn Highs. On that night, we packed the hall.
The issue was raised and the question posed. Hands shot up in the name of Jesus, and the motion failed—as it always had and always would.
Protest and outrage are one thing.
The vote is another.