“Nick? What do you think about that?” my grandfather asked his now very confused grandson.

“Sorry, what was that? I zoned out for a minute.”

“Did you hear about the amendment that’s going to be on the ballot? You know, to re-define marriage?”

I smiled weakly and nodded, mostly to stop myself from any other reaction, formulating the perfect response and mentally preparing for war. But before I could say anything, my aunt took control of the conversation:

“That passed? Thank the Lord. I was sure those Democrats would block it. People should be allowed to vote on something so important!”

“My thoughts exactly,” my grandmother chimed in. She hated politics, except for one topic: same-sex marriage. “Mind you, I don’t really have faith in Minnesotans to make the right decision. It seems nobody remembers His word any more. I wouldn’t be surprised if gay marriage was forced on us in a few years.”

I glanced at my mom. A tired look on her face warned me that this was not the time. A knot in my stomach formed as I thought about my boyfriend, wanting to defend what we have. Yet I knew my mom was right, now would not be the right time, at dinner, in front of my young cousins. It seemed I’d just have to tolerate this conversation…

“Tolerance” is a word I hear thrown around a lot, often as a goal or an aspiration. Constantly throughout middle and high school I heard teachers and staff talk about the almighty tolerance, a spark of justice in an unfair world. If only people would be more tolerant of others, more tolerant of race or gender or sexual orientation, the world would be a better place.

Bullshit. Tolerance, according to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, means “capacity to endure pain or hardship.” Its synonyms include permitting, allowing, enduring, suffering. There are things I tolerate, like Minnesota winters or the guy in class who always asks a four-part question. I have endured conversations where my own family, unknowingly, tells me that my happiness is not important to them.

But tolerance is not something to aspire to. At best, it’s putting the car in neutral so it can’t move forward. At worst, to tolerate is to choose to suffer. We can do better.

When Assistant Dean of Students Virgil Jones talks to prospective students, he says the Diversity Center is a place where you can be who you are and be accepted there.

As opposed to apathy or enduring hardship, acceptance is warm approval. Acceptance is approving of another person’s culture, gender and orientation, even though you don’t know, and never will know, what that person has experienced or felt,.

Before Professor of Religion Darrel Jodock retired, I had the privilege of hearing him speak about the Lutheran tradition. The tradition is not one that thrives because of a passive endurance of other traditions. Rather, the proper Lutheran path is one that knows its own scripture and legacy, but also actively embraces and learns other belief systems, philosophies and ways of life. Lutheranism is about acceptance. By embracing other cultures and beliefs, a Lutheran (or, anyone for that matter) can better learn about the world and oneself.

Coming Out Week starts on Monday. It’s a week dedicated to the idea that at Gustavus, anyone can be who they are, and we will accept them. It’s a time for us, as a community, to come together and learn from our differences. Starting today, I hope you embrace this attitude with me.