“‘I wish it need not have happened in my time,’ said Frodo.  ‘So do I,’ said Gandalf, ‘and so do all who live to see such times.  But that is not for them to decide.  All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.’”

A common refrain amongst proponents of same-sex marriage is that their opponents stand on the wrong side of history.  The way things are going, and in light of an impending Supreme Court ruling this summer on the constitutionality of state laws defining marriage as the union of one man and one woman, this charge might seem accurate.

Three weeks ago, Governor Pence signed into Indiana law a state Religious Freedom Restoration Act, which would have prevented the imposition of substantial burdens on sincere religious belief by any law or act of state or local government, unless it could be shown that the burden advanced a compelling government interest and did so through the least restrictive means to that end.

While the law protected religious liberty in all sorts of situations and for every sort of religious belief, opponents had eyes only for what the law might mean for homosexuals and transgendered people. Claiming that the law would provide legal defense for restaurants or hotels which refused to serve homosexuals, critics of the law succeeded in pressuring state legislators and Governor Pence to vitiate the core of the law’s religious liberty protections via an amendment—almost universally called a “fix.”

Who, if anyone, is on “the right side of history” is, however, irrelevant.  Gandalf was on to something: “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”  Far more important than worrying about being on the right or wrong side of history is witnessing to the truth.  In doing so, we will help decide which side history is on.  We march, and history follows.

Defending marriage against the onslaught of the zeitgeist requires at least two things: keep making arguments in defense of the conjugal view of marriage, and take the long view.

Religious liberty protections are of vital importance to carving out space for individuals and businesses to live and work in ways consonant with the tenets of their faith, including the proposition that marriage is the union of one man and one woman.  But equally important is defending the proposition itself.  Unless stout-hearted defenses of conjugal marriage continue to be offered, both in person and in the public square, defenders of religious liberty will remain on the defensive and will continue to lose ground.

“The wide world is all about you: you can fence yourselves in, but you cannot forever fence it out,” Tolkien wrote in The Fellowship of the Ring.  Religious liberty protections, if they serve only to fence us in, must be complemented by continued principled arguments in favor of conjugal marriage when the wide world inevitably topples the fence.  That is not to call for a hunt after the perfect rhetoric, the argument that “works,” the definitive determination of the arc of history.  Rather, it is a call to supplement religious liberty protections with arguments that are sound, confidently hoping in the strength of truth.

Sound arguments for marriage exist.  Ryan Anderson, Sherif Girgis, Melissa Moschella, and many others make a case that is rationally superior to alternative views on marriage.  To put it simply, their view is a more complete description of marriage.  It explains what marriage is and why it matters better than its opponents do.  Pro-marriage arguments deserve our attention—and they will reward sustained engagement with them.

“Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens,” says Gimli, son of Gloin.  I agree. The road ahead is undoubtedly dark, but that is no reason to cease to travel it.  If we are confident in the soundness of our argument, and that the redefinition of marriage is built upon misunderstanding, we are called to put one foot in front of the other, even if we cannot see where the road may lead.

And in fact we may have some hint of where the road may lead.  In the immediate aftermath of Roe v. Wade in 1973, major pro-life public figures—from Bill Clinton to Jesse Jackson to Ted Kennedy—were “evolving” on the abortion issue.  The media narrative was that the pro-life movement was aging, while their children increasingly turned against them—all the young people supported abortion, the media said.  Pro-lifers were told, unsurprisingly, that they were on the wrong side of history.  Yet look at where the pro-life movement is now, 42 years after Roe.  Youth today are more likely to be pro-life than their parents, and that trend is likely to continue—all because of a sustained and unceasing commitment to the unborn child’s right to life from dedicated proponents of the pro-life cause in the early years following Roe.

The redefinition of marriage and the pro-abortion movement stem from the same false premise—that adult fulfillment trumps the needs of children; that the child’s right to life and right to a mother and a father can be trampled upon in order to fulfill the desires of adults. The fight for marriage and the fight for life are closely intertwined, and those who defend marriage can take heart from the example of the pro-life movement.

“The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater,” Tolkien writes.  In a sense, our times could be said to be the worst of times, full of challenges, trials, and tribulations.  Marriage is being redefined across our country; judicial usurpations of the right of the people and their elected representatives to make decisions about marriage policy are commonplace; and those who steadfastly put out into the deep and bear witness to the truth are increasingly confronting a new, unforgiving orthodoxy that censures dissent vigorously.

But, as often, the worst could also be said to be the best of times. With the greatest challenges come the greatest opportunities, and ahead of us is an opportunity to bear difficult witness to the truth. Riding now are many courageous defenders of marriage, braving defeat for goodness’ sake, and raising a powerful battle cry.  Surely Tolkien would agree that Shakespeare here is fitting: “I never heard so musical a discord, such sweet thunder.”

Tim Bradley is a junior studying economics, theology, philosophy, and Constitutional Studies. If you would like to meet with him to discuss marriage policy, please contact him at tbradle5@nd.edu.