In a heartbreaking and dangerous move, Spain’s lower house of Parliament has voted 311 to 33 in favor of a bill that would punish pastors, counselors, and even parents who offer biblical help to those seeking freedom from homosexuality or gender confusion. That’s not exaggeration. If this law passes the Senate, someone who lovingly walks with a person through repentance and healing in Jesus Christ could face up to two years in prison. Not for abuse. Not for coercion. But for hope.

This is not progress. It’s persecution.

Dressed up in the language of “conversion therapy bans,” this legislation is nothing short of a direct assault on the Christian faith. It’s not just targeting questionable practices—it’s targeting the very message of the Gospel. Because at its heart, the Gospel says this: no matter where you are or what sin you’re caught in, you can be changed. You can be made new. Jesus Christ can restore what’s been broken.

But under this law, that kind of message—offered voluntarily to someone who’s asking for it—is now considered criminal. Think about that. A man or woman walks into a church, brokenhearted, wanting to leave a life of sin behind and follow Christ, and if a pastor dares to counsel them with Scripture, he could be prosecuted.

This bill doesn’t simply ban abuse. Abuse is already illegal. This bill bans consent. It bans repentance. It makes it illegal to believe that some behaviors are sinful—and that Jesus can redeem people from them.

It’s not just legislative overreach. It’s spiritual tyranny.

What’s even more disturbing is that this isn’t some vague, misunderstood law. The socialist lawmakers behind the bill made it painfully clear: even if an adult asks for help, even if they want counseling to align their identity with their God-given biology, offering that help will now be a crime. In other words, you are no longer allowed to agree with Romans 1 or 1 Corinthians 6. You are no longer allowed to believe that transformation is possible through Christ. You are no longer allowed to say, “There is freedom from sin.”

That’s not compassion. That’s cruelty—cruelty dressed in the clothes of “tolerance.”

What about those who are hurting? Those who have de-transitioned? Those who live with regret, trauma, and spiritual turmoil, crying out to God for healing and truth? Are they to be abandoned? Are their lives less valuable because their stories don’t fit the secular narrative? According to this law, yes. Their desire to follow Jesus must be ignored. And the church must keep silent or face prison.

This is not just an attack on free speech. It’s an attack on the very idea that God changes lives. It’s an attack on the Gospel of Christ itself.

Spain, once a proud bastion of Christianity—a nation that defended the cross with cries of “¡Santiago y cierra, España!”—has now chosen to criminalize that same cross. The nation that once sent missionaries across the globe now sends police into churches. The land that once built cathedrals to honor God now builds laws to silence Him.

We are watching the collapse of moral order in real time.

And yet—this isn’t just about Spain. Canada already passed a similar law (Bill C-4). Other European nations are drafting their own versions. And here in America, activists are pushing for the same thing. The goal is simple: silence the church. Outlaw biblical transformation. Replace the Gospel of grace with the gospel of affirmation.

So what do we do?

We stand.

The church cannot bow to Caesar when Caesar tells us to deny Christ. We cannot surrender truth to make the world comfortable. And we must not retreat in fear when called to preach repentance and life. If they put us in prison, then so be it. Better a jail cell for preaching the Word than a church filled with silence and compromise.

Let Spain’s betrayal be a warning—and a wake-up call. But more importantly, let it be a call to prayer. Because while Spain may have turned its back on Christ, He has not turned His back on Spain. There is still hope. And that hope begins when the church decides to speak, love, and live like Christ—no matter the cost.