Offended.  That will be the defining word of this generation.  We will be remembered as the most thin-skinned, divisive generation in history. Angry and railing, demanding and needy, marching, shouting, protesting, suing…  And it’s destroying our culture.

Free speech and expression used to be cherished values in our society, but in recent years the culture has dramatically changed.  People are rabidly hypersensitive now, and expressing your views can result in serious backlash and repercussions. One clumsy opinion or misinterpretation, and you could be labeled a racist, homophobe, xenophobe, hatemonger, or ironically, “intolerant.”

As a result, we’ve become conditioned to walk on eggshells in our personal interactions–to restrict our conversations to the safe confines of shallow, dispassionate small-talk.

Recently, in a careless slip on my part, I shared an opinion about a mildly controversial subject with a woman that I like and respect very much.  I watched her countenance instantly change.  Her smile disappeared.  Her back stiffened.  She politely rebuked and corrected me, and we awkwardly transitioned to more benign subject matter before abruptly ending the conversation.  I went away dejected, fraught with anxiety and regret, reminding myself that this is why I no longer take those kinds of interpersonal risks.  I had tipped my hand, revealed a glimpse of who I am and what I stand for, and had been reprimanded accordingly.

And the list of offensive subject matter is continually growing.

Pit Bulls:  Dangerous neighborhood menace?  Or adorable slobbering playmate for children?  Your answer could get you unfriended on Facebook.

Labor Unions: Good or bad for the working class?  Your perspective could get you into a bar brawl.

Abortion:  Your stance could get you mocked, spit on, and harassed.

Gay Marriage:  Your views on this matter can cost you your livelihood.

Our militant mindsets keep us eager to go to battle against people of differing values and opinions.

There’s even an ongoing battle between Working Moms and Stay At Home Moms.  They even have an adorable little name for it: “Mommy Wars.”  Because who better to wage war against one another than people of the same gender and age group, going through the same struggles while navigating the same difficult journey through the most important job on earth?

This is stupid and we need to stop it.

We’re so focused on asserting our many individual stances that we’ve lost our sense of solidarity.  We’ve no common goal or vision.  No inspiration or direction.  We’re experiencing a structural breakdown that is destroying our culture.

The way back is through relationships.  Open, honest, respectful, gracious relationships.  We were designed for community–caring, contributing, and cooperating in the midst of our many differences.

Last Mother’s Day I took my mother out to dinner, and we had one of those epic talks that lasts for hours. We talked about what was going on in our lives. We exchanged stories. We laughed, but mostly we cried. We talked about deep spiritual truths. We shared our dreams and desires. We talked about sorrow and suffering. We talked about problems: serious ones with no foreseeable solutions. We expressed our deep and sincere love for one another. We talked about faith and trusting God. We talked about the people we love. We talked about family and about raising children; first hers, and now mine. We discussed religion, culture, politics, and world events. We talked about things that matter.

I wasn’t ready for it to be over, but the dinner crowd had long since gone and the wait staff was beginning to clean up. We talked all the way home, and then sat in the driveway and talked some more. I didn’t want her to get out of the car, but it was very late and she had to go inside.

I drove home feeling wrung out; spent; emotionally drained.  I began to realize how long I’d been starving for that kind of human connection. For someone to share my soul with. Someone safe that I could trust in my most vulnerable places and who was willing to be vulnerable with me in return. There are very few people in my life like that, and those types of interactions are painfully rare.

Most of my day to day relationships are with co-workers and general acquaintances–people I see every day, but don’t really know at all. Although we spend the bulk of our waking hours together, we are little more than strangers. It made me sad to realize how dry and lifeless our social relationships are. How boring and shallow our conversations. How I’d been longing to talk to someone with uninhibited passion. To discuss things with profound meaning and substance.

Our souls are starving.  We’re starving because we’re not feeding each other.  When we talk, listen, debate, teach, counsel, empathize, encourage, share, forgive, and even at times admonish one another, we nourish and enrich each other’s souls.  But to do this without hostility, we must learn and practice the art of graceful disagreement.

It doesn’t mean that we never disagree, or that all things disagreeable are expunged from public expression.  We tried that.  It isn’t working.

On the contrary, we need much more dialog, not less.  True diversity and tolerance means that we freely allow each other the grace and the space to hold dear a very different value system than our own.  It means that we are safe to discuss and debate openly and honestly, and that others maintain the right to vehemently, but respectfully disagree.  Most importantly, it means that we listen.  We have so much to learn from one another.  We sacrifice so much growth and understanding when we silence one another by being so quick to take offense and to inflict offense in return.

Our shared values–love, equality, friendship, peace, respect, cooperation, freedom–are greater than our disagreements, and we could unite behind those commonalities if we really wanted to.  Then we could enjoy the benefits that come from a united community of truly diverse and tolerant individuals: Nourished, satisfied souls.  And talks.  Really, really great talks.