Republished with permission from John Pavlovitz

I often find myself in a now-familiar spot with Trump supporters I know: hopelessly stuck in an unnavigable impasse on our respective paths, unable to find a way forward.

And when the friction becomes too great, the exchange too heated, and the tension too uncomfortable, they invariably drop an all-too-familiar final salvo designed to stop the conversation and avoid pressing ahead:

“We’re just going to have to agree to disagree.”

I disagree.

I refuse these terms.

I do not consent to this convenient truce.

Such a concession assumes that we both have equally valid opinions, that we’re each mutually declaring those opinions not so divergent that they cannot be abided; that our relationship is of greater value than the differences—but that isn’t exactly true for me.

No, we don’t just disagree now. They’re simply wrong.

I believe they are deeply, profoundly, and egregiously wrong; the kind of wrong about the kinds of things that I can no longer excuse or make peace with or overlook—because that would be a denial of who I am and what matters to me, the values I have spent a lifetime forming.

This is not a disagreement.

We are not simply declaring mismatched preferences regarding something inconsequential. We’re not talking about who has the best offensive line in the NFL, or whether Van Halen was better with Dave or Sammy, what craft beer pairs best with a cheesesteak, or the sonic differences of CDs and vinyl. On such matters (though I will provide spirited debate), I can tolerate dissension.

We’re not even talking about clear misalignments on very important things: how to best address climate change or what will fix our healthcare system or how to reduce our national debt or what it will take to bring racial equity. Those subjects, while critically important—still have room for constructive debate and differing solutions. They are mendable fractures.

But this runs far deeper and into the marrow of who we each are.

At this point, with the past decade (and particularly the last couple of months) as a resume, their alignment with this president means that we are fundamentally disconnected on what is morally acceptable. I’ve simply seen too much to explain that away or rationalize their intentions or give them the benefit of the doubt any longer.

I know what their reaffirmation of him is telling me about their disregard for the lives of people of color, about their opinion of women, about their attitude toward Science, about the faith they so loudly profess, and about their elemental disrespect for bedrock truth. I now can see how pliable their morality is, the kinds of compromises they’re willing to make, the ever-descending bottom they are following him into, in order to feel victorious in a war they don’t even know why they’re fighting.

That’s why I need these people to understand that this isn’t just a schism on one issue or a single piece of legislation, as those things would be manageable. This isn’t a matter of politics or preference. This is a pervasive, sprawling, saturating separation about the way we see the world, what we value, and how we want to move through this life.

Agreeing to disagree with these people in these matters would mean silencing myself and more importantly, betraying the people who bear the burdens of their political affiliations— and this is not something I’m willing to do.

My relationships with many of these people who are former friends and family members still matter greatly to me, but if they have to be the collateral damage of standing with the vulnerable and the oppressed, I’ll have to see that as acceptable losses.

Trump supporters’ devaluing of black lives is not an opinion.

Their acceptance of falsehoods is not an opinion.

Their embracing of racism is not an opinion.

Their defiance of facts is not an opinion.

Their hostility toward immigrants is not an opinion.

These are fundamental heart issues.

And I want them all to know where I stand so that when the chair is empty this Thanksgiving, the calls don’t come, they meet with radio silence, or they begin to notice the slow fade of our exchanges, I want them to know why: it’s because I have learned how morally incompatible we are. It doesn’t mean I don’t care for them but it means proximity to them isn’t going to be healthy.

I’ve been disagreeing with people all my life. That isn’t the issue here.

Were we talking about anything less than the lives of other beautiful disparate beings, I’d be more than willing to disagree with them, but since we are talking about the lives of other beautiful disparate beings—I can’t.

I believe his supporters are wrong in ways that are harming people.

They’re wrong to deny the humanity of other human beings.

They’re wrong to justify their affiliation with this violence.

They’re wrong to embrace a movement built on the worst parts of who we are.

I simply can’t agree with that.