The Wilful Sunflower

I just read a very moving letter written by a man to a lady. It's moving because it's honest, and it describes a very real struggle -- his struggle to understand her faith and grasp why her faith is so important to her. His struggle to accept the fact that she thinks so differently from him on this very issue.

People have criticised me for stating openly that I won't date someone of a different faith. I've always been firmly convinced that it would create an issue of incompatability. At the same time, I also know there are couples who don't share each other's beliefs and yet have been very happy together. Yeah, it can work, why be so pessimistic and rigid, right?

I guess the key lies in the question: What kind of role does your faith play in your life? If it is the core by which you live, which shapes your worldview and your values and goals, then it will be hard to live with someone who thinks differently and might hold different values and goals. But if it is just a set of beliefs -- you know, like what kind of God is out there, or what happens to people when they die -- then it's not as crucial for your partner to share those beliefs. Because you can believe differently and still live in great harmony together.

The writer in question understood that, for his lady, faith was something very real and fundamental. It plunged him into a dilemma:

Although we had known each other for some time, I had failed to appreciate the extent of my friend's very private faith. When she eventually corrected my error, it came as something of a shock. We had become romantically involved shortly before this discovery and although we were extremely close in many ways, we didn't really connect in other ways. As our metaphysical differences became increasingly apparent, the question of respect started to arise, for both of us, which only heightened the tension.

It seems to me that respect is an essential ingredient in love, and yet I found myself claiming (sincerely) to love someone whose central worldview I considered ridiculous.

And that's why I liked his letter: because of the intellectual and emotional honesty. He refused to pretend it wasn't a problem, or that he could live with it. And with that comes humility, the ability to admit that maybe he was wrong, maybe he should re-examine his stand on the matter. Then came the courage to actually do so, to wrestle with deeply held beliefs and convictions, and the agony as he still could not reconcile his views with hers.

It's a beautifully written letter and says lots about the man who wrote it. I'd say he's the kind of man I'd be proud to call 'friend'.