Yesterday on Change.org a story was posted entitled “When Health Class Becomes Homophobic Lecturing.” (Click here to read the story.) The story tells of a health classroom in Fresno City College (a public school) in which a professor has been promoting personal religious beliefs regarding homosexuality. According to the article, this professor has called homosexuality a ‘misapplication of human sexuality,’ has advocated reparative approaches to homosexual orientation, and has called homosexuality “evil” and “a threat to society.”

I am an activist by nature and would like to make others aware of this incident as well as urging them to sign the petition to take action against this sort of thing happening. Yet, that is not the reason I am writing or mentioning the article today. What motivated me to blog today is what I read in the Comments section where readers can respond to the article. For instance:

“Dear [Professor], I find it incredible that you can still read and quote the bible with your head so far up your a[**]. … Kudos for that but a BIG F[***] YOU for being a hateful dumba[**]. hehe.”

“Let’s hope that the ACLU is successful in shutting this crack-pot up. The teaching of hate and intolerance has no place in the classroom.”

“Go preach your propaganda at your local ignorant church and stop spreading hate! YOU ARE NOT A TEACHER! YOU ARE A DISGRACE!!!”

Others have “liked” these comments—adding their affirmation that they share the same sentiments. This troubles me.

I am a huge proponent of human rights; I believe in separation of church and state; I am a passionate advocate for LGBTQ equal rights. Why would I not whole-heartedly add my support for these comments? Do the things this professor is propagating not offend me? Am I not in favor of stopping this religiously biased, unscientific, homophobic instruction?

Yes, I am offended. Yes, I want it to stop. But, I do not see these comments as being helpful in the least. The authors of these comments are standing up for what they believe, but they are mirroring the same hateful rhetoric that they are calling a disgrace. They are committing violence with their words. This is an employment of lex talionis: an eye for an eye; intolerance for intolerance.

I disagree to the core of my being with what this man is teaching, but I do not believe this necessitates or condones me doing violence to him in return. Calling this professor names, cursing at him—these are destructive acts of violence. No, I certainly do not hold the same beliefs, and no, his beliefs certainly do not belong in a public school classroom. I will whole-heartedly add my voice to the multitude of others who oppose this practice; but, I will not add a voice of hate. Hating this man and committing violence toward him does nothing but deny him the same humanity that he is denying me and all of my other LGBTQ siblings. Where is the good in that?

This professor believes what he believes, and he has been teaching what he believes. I understand why he is doing this: I, too, have my own beliefs, and I promote those beliefs in the various contexts in which I find myself. There is humanity in this man, whether I choose to recognize it or not. If I were to look deeper into why he is promoting these ideas, which seem hateful and to me feel dehumanizing, I might actually find that he feels as though he is motivated not by hate, but by love. He probably believes that homosexuality will result in a person’s being eternally damned, and out of love, he wants to spread a message that will help people avoid that horrible fate. He knows that this is true; I know that it is not true. The same humanity is in us both.

Tolerance: is it a two-way street? Can we tolerate intolerance? Surely, we cannot enable intolerance or sit back and watch as it takes an active role in demeaning, degrading, and dehumanizing others. No, we cannot stand for this kind of teaching continuing. We must stand up, speak out, and actively oppose it. But, at the same time, we must avoid the temptation to become intolerant ourselves. If we do, we lower ourselves to the level of what we oppose. Recognizing humanity is what we claim we are supporting by affirming people’s rights to be true to their sexuality, but we must also recognize the humanity in the person who does not understand or agree with us.

How can we have tolerance for intolerance? It might seem that tolerating intolerance will only allow these hateful acts to continue. Don’t we have a responsibility to stop these hateful acts? Yes. Absolutely. We must stop the hate. But, calling people names and criticizing them is not stopping the hate—it is merely furthering it. What we must do is believe in and act out the transformative power of love. The only thing that is capable of stopping a cycle of violence is love; love is a means of reacting without perpetrating violence in return.

We often label people like this professor “bigots” and “homophobes,” but they are often not innately malicious people. They are people who love, just like us, but they are demonstrating that love in a different way because they believe something different from what we believe. We have to love these people enough to be willing to try to understand the way they believe what they believe and examine why they are acting out those beliefs in the way that they are—even when it seems obscene to us. I must love this professor enough to try to understand him; I must love him enough to engage him peacefully, revealing to him the destructiveness of his beliefs and practices; I must love him enough to be persistent, regardless of whether he alters his convictions or only returns hate and misunderstanding. My love will not be weak—it will be intense and direct, clearly exposing the violence that he is perpetrating. The transformative power of my love will be powerful—much more powerful than the destructive power of violence.

My message to these commentators today is: Don’t tolerate injustice; but also, do not add yours to the voices of hate that are perpetrating the injustice. Violence can seem momentarily powerful, but it is not effective. Love has the power to transform. As our brother Martin Luther King, Jr. powerfully stated: “Returning violence for violence multiplies violence, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. … Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.”