Disclaimer: This is satire, rage, and constitutional literacy performed at 110 decibels. If you think “freedom of religion” means “freedom to discriminate,” go reread the Bill of Rights. Slowly. Out loud. Preferably with supervision.
Let’s start with Kim Davis, the patron saint of self-inflicted martyrdom. 2015: Obergefell v. Hodges drops. Love wins, rainbows everywhere, confetti, Beyoncé soundtrack — the whole deal. Enter Davis: the county clerk who looked at the Constitution, looked at her Bible, looked at her fourth marriage to her third husband, and said, “Nah, my beliefs outrank yours.”
She refused to issue marriage licenses to same-sex couples, claiming “religious conviction.” The federal courts looked at her and said, “Sweetheart, your religion is your business, but your job is the people’s business.”
Result: Miller v. Davis made it crystal clear — public officials cannot pick and choose which laws to follow. You take the oath, you take the duty. Don’t like it? Turn in the keycard and go sell inspirational mugs on Etsy.
And yet…
Here we are in 2025, and Davis is back — like a sequel no one asked for and everyone dreads. Now she’s begging the Supreme Court to let her personal theology override everyone else’s rights. Because apparently, “equal protection” needs a permission slip from her pastor.
This isn’t faith. It’s a legal temper tantrum in a church hat. She’s using the same courts that defended her right to marry as many times as her conscience allowed to deny someone else the same freedom. That’s not conviction — that’s hypocrisy with a notary stamp.
Now, before we get to Texas, let’s pause for a moment. Because this year alone, we’ve had to drag Texas across this stage for:
- Outlawing libraries that carry books with gay characters.
- Trying to prosecute doctors for saving women’s lives.
- Passing “school choice” bills that siphon public funds into private indoctrination centers.
- And declaring, with the confidence of a man who’s never read Article VI, that “state law outranks federal law.”
You’d think they’d take a week off from rewriting the Constitution with crayons. But no. They’re back again. Same cast, new absurdity.
The Texas Supreme Court, ladies and gentlemen. All-Republican bench, fully marinated in piety and oil money, decided that judges who refuse to perform weddings for same-sex couples aren’t breaking any ethical rules — because “sincerely held beliefs.”
That’s not law. That’s “God told me no homo” scrawled in legalese.
They literally amended the Code of Judicial Conduct to carve out an exemption for bigotry.
It’s not a statute. It’s not precedent. It’s a comment. But in the Bible Belt, a comment from the bench carries the weight of a burning bush.
Now, if you’re a queer couple in rural Texas, good luck. You might have to drive 200 miles just to find someone willing to acknowledge your existence. And if you sue? They’ll say, “Well, someone else could’ve married you.” That’s not equality — that’s segregation with a customer service smile.
Let’s call this what it is: religious privilege disguised as moral principle. And it’s the same playbook they used to gut Roe v. Wade: start local, sound reasonable, make it optional, and then quietly build your theocracy one exemption at a time.
Kim Davis wanted to be the martyr.
Texas wants to be the Vatican.
And the rest of us are left wondering how many “sincerely held beliefs” it takes before the Constitution starts to look like Swiss cheese.
If your religion can’t survive someone else’s marriage, maybe your god needs therapy. If your faith demands permission to discriminate, it’s not faith — it’s fascism with a hymnal. And if Texas keeps rewriting its laws by divine decree, maybe it should stop pretending to be part of the United States and start auditioning for a reboot of The Handmaid’s Tale.
Because freedom of religion was never meant to mean freedom from responsibility. You don’t get to be a judge of the law while claiming you answer to a higher one.
You’re not a prophet. You’re a public employee.
And the only “sincerely held belief” that should matter in that courtroom is the one that starts, “I solemnly swear to uphold the Constitution.”