Why can't we be friends? (in response to "I'm Christian, unless you're gay")

I just read I'm Christian, unless you're gay on Dan Pearce's "Single Dad Laughing" blog. It's incredible, makes some awesome points, and leaves little out. The post is so powerful, the author followed it up with two posts of people's responses to it. I'll admit I haven't read those yet, because I'm inspired in a way I don't want to lose. I'm using this energy to write out a few things that I thought were missing, and perhaps invoke a thought process that will lead to a happier life for my readers.

First things first, Dan's right: it's all about love. The problem is that the love becomes frustration which becomes hate, as outlined. All well and good, but I think it's important to understand why. Here, I'll attempt to explain it. It starts with our beliefs, or more specifically, our beliefs about our beliefs. It's difficult to say it inoffensively so I'll just say it plainly: Some people, maybe you, maybe your family, your friends, even myself sometimes, believe that our beliefs make up who we are. We are attached to them, we believe them to be absolutely correct. That's not true. For example, as I read "I'm Christian, unless you're gay", I discovered that I haven't been as loving and kind as I often believe I am. I've played the hate game myself, separating out a "them" from an "us". I also discovered why I begin to make that distinction.

It starts with love. First believing that I love everybody, at least in some small way, I allow myself to think that I can "save them" if I convince them of my obviously correct beliefs. That's mistake number one. Then, I discover that when I try to "convert" people to my way of thinking, they get mad at me. Mistake number two. I can then logically conclude that "they don't want saved" or "they don't understand why it's good for them". Mistake number three. I might try harder, believing that it might take a little force to help them understand. Mistake four. Failing again, I can then conclude that they are some kind of enemy, for surely they hate me now if they didn't already. Final mistake and last step in the transmutation of love to hate. I have created a "they" out of difference because I believe my way to be better.

The solution is easy, if you're willing to understand it. Stop clinging to your beliefs. They may not be as true as you want them to be in the first place, and they are probably not any better than anyone else's. Even if your beliefs can be objectively true, and imagine that at least one of them is for now, the only time someone else's belief is a problem for you is when they try to force it on you.

Sadly, I feel a need to clarify the tone I take on many of my posts. I realize I'm not the most diplomatic of personalities out there. I don't say things because I mean to offend anyone, I say them because if I don't there won't be any conversation about it. It's true we have conversations to convince people of our beliefs, but that's no reason to get angry about it. I don't want you to stop reading because I said something you don't like. I want you to address it. I want to hear other points of view so I can better understand my own. I've been accused of being closed minded because I don't automatically accept what people tell me as fact. I don't want you to accept my words as fact, I want you to rip them apart and see what makes them work. Topics get touchy when large groups get loud about them, when we become emotionally attached to our beliefs about them. Those topics won't be resolved by yelling matches. Those topics weigh heavily enough on our minds that refusing to talk about them is probably more destructive than risking a few hurt feelings.

The message I extracted from "I'm Christian, unless you're gay" can be distilled to this: we don't need to get mad at each other when we share our ideas. We don't have to be cold and heartless to have a deep conversation. Discussing things calmly is not a sign of weakness, but a sign of strength. We don't have to deny our emotions, but we can't let them take control of us, either.

If I've said something that pushed your buttons, I want to hear about it. I want it outlined for me, and I want to know what beliefs I've contradicted. Calling me names and yelling and pleading about how I must be wrong gets you nowhere. If you can make a good case for your belief, I'll probably adopt it. That's the thing about open mindedness: being convinced of something contrary to an older belief is not some earth-shattering process. It's quiet, it's subtle, and it can start with everything from outright denial to simple statement of contrary belief to questions about the new information. Closed mindedness is the loud one that screams in the face of contrary evidence simply to preserve an obviously outdated ideal.