In My Opinion
By L.N.P.

"Brotherly Love"

I miss my brother. It's strange, because it's a little like missing a mosquito bite; it's fine that it's gone, but it sure felt good scratching it.

My brother moved from around the corner to Denver about nine months ago. We stayed in touch until one day an email from him pushed me over the edge. I had politely asked him to stop forwarding me petitions from NARAL and MOVE-ON, based on the fact that I really wasn't a big fan of either. I didn't say that I hated what they stood for, or that I thought he was a jerk for supporting their views; I respect his right to support whatever movements or causes represent his values. I merely said that since they no longer represented mine, he should probably just send them to people who would appreciate them.

It had taken me a long time to do that. For months I simply trashed the emails and didn't make anything of it. But, in trying to be true to myself and my beliefs, I figured it was time. (It's not as though I don't get enough unsolicited email from the folks at Viagra and Botox.)

What I didn't count on was his response. Basically, he replied that he had no idea what had happened to the sister he'd once known. Where, he asked, was the person who used to care about people and things that mattered ? The email ended with him writing that he guessed I'd finally become one of those “right-wing, extremist, fascist, think-they're-right-about-everything religious fanatics.”

Wow! That hit me right between the eyes. After all, the sister he'd “once known” hadn't changed; I had the same character, intellect, sense of humor, and love for him that I'd always had. And I was very sure that my capacity to care more deeply about both people and things that mattered had grown exponentially.

No, it was the reason that I cared more deeply that so offended my brother; it was my new found faith and my desire to live in God's will that made my brother cringe. Knowing that about me seemed to convince him that I was no longer a person of value, that I could no longer make intelligent decisions.

The difference, it seemed, was in our definitions. Based on the emails he'd been forwarding me, what mattered to my brother were the usual liberal causes: bashing Bush, pointing out what was wrong with this country, and a woman's right to choose. To be fair, I'd once shared those views. Over the past couple of years, however, my opinions had changed in accordance with my worldview. What mattered more to me were moral values, focusing on what is positive about this country, and the sanctity of human life. I don't think I was fanatic about it. I never asked anyone to sign any petitions. I never insulted anyone who didn't agree with my opinions. After all, they were personal, faith-based opinions, ones I'd never presume to force on someone who didn't share that faith.

Still, I thought, how sad that it was my faith-not my character or integrity or my years of caring concern for him-but my faith that would cause my brother to lash out at me. And how ironic that he would accuse me of thinking I was right about everything at the very time in my life that I'd learned I couldn't be right about anything without seeking God's wisdom. Ironic, too, because we still shared so many of the same views. Helping people. Caring for the environment. Being honest. Persevering. Continuing to grow. At that moment it felt to me that it was my brother who thought he was right about everything, including who did and didn't “matter,” and my brother who was, of the two of us, the extremist.

It wasn't that he'd never said he was glad I'd found something that made me happy, because he HAD said that. But he adamantly refused to discuss it. He knew practically nothing about the meaning of Christianity, about history, about the bible, even about his own religion, yet he professed to know all he needed or wanted to know. He said he was glad I was “happy,” but he made it clear that he did NOT want to know why. And that would have been fine, I suppose, except that he also considers himself to be among the most tolerant, open-minded and well-informed people around.

In retrospect, I should have been able to handle that. I should have been able to love him just as Christ loves me-flaws and all. I should have focused on how funny, sweet, generous, and yes, even kind he could be. I should have seen that his negative attitudes came, undoubtedly, from stereotypes, from misinformation, from different life experiences, maybe even from fear. I should have set an example-even if it took ten, twenty years, and reflected to him the true face of sisterly love. But I didn't.

Instead, I wrote him a letter. At the time, I had decided that letting him know how I felt, and that trying one more time to get through to him was the right answer. I borrowed some sarcasm, quoting from a book by Ann Coulter (the brilliant but highly acerbic conservative) in which she wrote, “Liberals … will work themselves into a dervish-like trance and start incanting inanities: Bush lied, fascist, Halliburton.” And “...A major impediment to arguing with liberals is: they refuse to argue, preferring to hurl insults.”

I urged him to step away from what he was being fed by the media long enough to do his own thinking-to do the research and then make an informed decision. I told him that I'd never hurled insults at him or lumped him into a category based solely on his beliefs. And I tried, once more, to explain to him what it was that had completely changed my life. In other words, I preached.

When I think about it now, I wonder why I didn't realize that saying that something had “completely changed my life” might sound eerie to someone whose life hadn't completely changed. Or to someone who was positive they knew me well. I wish I'd been wise enough to have said; “I know it must be confusing for you to think you know where a person stands on everything only to have them change, or to believe that someone you love shares all your views and then realize that they don't.” Maybe it wouldn't have made a difference, but I wish that's what I'd said.

Send me your opinions at LParis@netlistings.com