“You don’t
understand! You don’t know what it’s like!”
I looked across
the table and saw the frustration in her eyes. I didn’t want to lose this
friendship. I took a deep breath.
“You know, you’re
right. I don’t know what it’s like. So tell me. Help me understand.”
And she did. She
told me all about how she had never fit in, how vicious pre-teen girls had
teased her, calling her a lesbian among other things, how she’d never felt the
passion for boys that the other girls did. She explained how coming out a few
weeks before had given her an accepting community and reassured her that she
wasn’t a freak.
“I’m sorry those
girls treated you like that,” I said. “I was bullied in middle school, too. And
I’m sorry you have to worry about whether your family and friends will still
like you. I still like you, and I want to keep being your friend. I wish I
could say I agree with your coming out, but …”
“But you can’t.”
She finished the sentence for me.
“But I can’t,” I
said, nodding.
We left with our
friendship intact, agreeing to disagree. There’s room for improvement in how I
handled that conversation, but one thing I think I did right was listening and
showing empathy.
My generation has
been encouraged to make decisions based on emotion, not on reason. I distinctly
remember believing in middle school that “I feel…” meant more or less the same
as “I think,” only “I feel” was stronger. Since feelings hold the place of
honor, the best way to treat others with kindness is to understand and
appreciate their emotions. In other words, empathy is a significant virtue in
the minds of my peers. This is why so many millennials support LGBTQ rights.
They see people in pain and seek to legitimize them, legally and socially, so
that pain will go away.
To communicate
with anyone, but especially those whose worldview differs from our own, we must
seek to understand where they’re coming from. And if we want them to understand
us, we need to show that we care about them. For Christians talking to
non-Christians in America, that means listening to where they’re coming from,
asking questions and even apologizing for ways Christians have sinned against
them.
But empathy
doesn’t require us to agree with all their positions. Feelings are real and
powerful, but they also can be misleading. It’s always loving to try to
understand what someone is feeling, but it’s not always loving to encourage
people to act on how they feel. All of us go against our feelings on a regular
basis. We get up when we don’t feel like it, we eat healthy foods rather than
just junk food, and we try to be kind to people even when we’re angry. Now,
these feelings are usually less strong and less permanent than sexual
attraction to your own sex or than feeling like your gender is wrong. But the
principle is the same: acting on your feelings isn’t always wise or right.
God doesn’t give
commands arbitrarily. When He gives a moral law, it’s because the act in
question damages us or other people. In the case of homosexuality, it’s a bit
of both. Same-sex relationships can’t provide society with the stability of
families with two biological parents But even more harm is done to the people
involved, who objectify and misuse their bodies, looking for happiness in
relationships that can’t ultimately provide it. These are often people who have
suffered greatly and are looking to ease the pain but are going about it all
wrong.
So please,
Christians, let’s treat the LGBTQ people in our lives with respect as
image-bearers of God. (Many of us do this already, so let’s continue.) Let’s
ask them questions about their lives and really listen to them, genuinely
trying to understand how they feel. Let’s give them the benefit of the doubt
when we’re not sure what their motives are. And let’s call them to a life of
faith in and obedience to Christ, the only place where they can find perfect
love, hope and healing.
