The protesters lined up on the grassy shoulder because there was no sidewalk on this two-lane road through the cornfields. They spaced themselves 10 feet or so apart, apparently in a vain attempt to make it seem like there were more than the 10 or 15 people who showed up outside Trader's Point Christian Church. Inside the church, the daylong Love Won Out conference had just wrapped up.
Produced by Focus on the Family, the conference shares hope for people who are unhappy with their homosexuality and who desire to change. But based on the protest signs out front, you would never suspect that was the gentle spirit of Love Won Out.
I flipped on my video camera and walked from protester to protester to get some shots of the signs they were holding. One woman held a sign that read, "I love my lesbian daughter."
She looked like someone I might chat with in line at the grocery store, so I asked if I could speak with her, making clear I did not want to start a debate. "I just want to hear you," I said.
She said, "May I show you an e-mail from my daughter?"
She unfolded a sheet of paper, explained that her daughter had “come out,” and sent this note afterward.
The e-mail thanked her parents for how they had accepted her announcement, especially when they asked her to look them in the eyes and they made it clear that they loved her.
I was struck how much this story rang true with so many parents who had attended the conference. I shared that it was essentially the advice that had been offered inside the church that day, but added that offering unconditional love does not mean affirming everything someone does.
As the setting sun glinted off her sunglasses, the mom raised basically three arguments. That 10 percent of the population is gay. That among a hundred and something animal species, there are those that exhibit gay behavior. And that her daughter's relationship with her partner was not hurting anyone.
I saw a lot of tension in her eyes, likely from having this unexpected conversation as cars dashed past, but I also saw sincerity.
I shared with her that there are very good arguments to refute all of those points, but that standing on the side of the road was not the place to have that conversation. We agreed that we were not likely to change each other's minds at this brief meeting.
We spoke a little more, I thanked her for being gracious and headed back across the road.
On the flight home, I reflected on what I had learned on an Indiana country road: There are times to push back firmly but respectfully. But there's also a time to listen and hear someone's story.
First, let's sweep away the parts-bin talking points she recited.
Ten percent: Oddly, it's a claim that most gay activists know full well is not credible, yet continue to cite as though it was. Research suggests it's more like 2 to 3 percent.
But here's the key, no matter the percentage: it doesn't matter. If something is harmful, it makes no difference how many people are engaged in that behavior, whether 3 percent, 10 percent or 90 percent. The person involved will always be faced with the mental, physical and spiritual consequences.
Gay animals: This one has always amused me: Some animals are homosexual, therefore it's OK for humans. Um, OK — and some animals sneak up on baby ducks, kill them and eat them without cooking them.
We're not animals, we're humans. It's an important distinction.
Her daughter's relationship doesn't hurt anyone: Well, research makes it clear that being involved in a lesbian relationship increases the risk for smoking, substance abuse, depression and suicide. So it may very well wind up hurting her daughter, and frankly, that pain would impact mom as well.
And make no mistake, the ultimate goal of gay activism is to force churches — including Trader's Point Christian Church — to either preach a gay Gospel or else remain totally silent on the issue. Failure to do so would lead to severe penalties, up to and including jail time for preachers.
Kinda shines a different light on the "doesn't hurt anyone" argument, doesn't it?
I wonder whether the mom on the side of the road had taken into account all that she was supporting by holding her hand-lettered posterboard sign.
But I don't think she was there because she had been doing sociological research and run across the silly 10 percent figure. And I don't think she was there because she had been doing zoological research on gay penguins. And I don't think she had been studying the impact of relationships on religious freedom, either.
She was there because she unconditionally loves her daughter. At its heart, that's something to honor, although we certainly disagree on how best to express that.
There is a time for debate. A time to speak our position clearly. A time to say, "This far and no further." But I am convinced there also is a time to intently and simply listen. So we know who these folks are on the side of the road. So we know what they're thinking. So we know what brought them to that moment.
Because we dare not forget that there are not only battles to win, there are people to win, as well.
