Sunday, my son and I went to Goodwill in search of new clothes for his rapidly growing body.

I pulled out a pair of pants for his consideration. They were khaki, with pleats, perfect for semi-dressy occasions.

Robby shook his head and wrinkled his nose. "Those look like Christian pants," he said.

I laughed out loud there in the store, even though I understood exactly what he meant. I also realized his comment indicates his views on religion are taking shape, and paralleling mine. It made me consider, again, what a strong influence I am in his life. The thought is humbling, and frightening. Because the truth is, I don't know anything.

I know there are more wonderful Christians than hateful ones, but that the latter are, sadly, the loudest. I know that most religious people are good and deeply kind. What I don't know is how they can be so sure.

To Robby, I have said only that clearly, something beyond comprehension created this world. I believe we are all here to make life better for one another, and that we should wring as much joy out of it as possible. Beyond that, I cannot venture.

I have never had a conversation with God, nor do I know anyone who has. And so, I wonder, how can anyone profess to know the answers?

Who knows that God believes homosexuality is abhorrent? If heterosexuals and homosexuals were created by the same hand, how can one kind of love be alright - even sacred - and another not? Isn't love, no matter who we love, a powerfully positive force? Who knows that those who do not share the beliefs of one specific religion are damned to hell, while others will ascend to heaven? How can anyone know there is a heaven or a hell?

I cannot get my arms around this. So instead of practicing a faith, mine is in people, the good I think is at the core of us all, and the ability we have to transform our worlds.

It seems to me New Life Church pastor Ted Haggard - whose teachings are among the reasons I left Colorado Springs - made a prison for himself. He preached that homosexuality was wrong. He found his urges repulsive. He hated that part of himself because he believed it is an abomination. For him, there is no escape.

I don't understand the attraction of homosexuality. But I also don't see how the current battle for equal rights among homosexuals is any different than the battles fought for equality among women and blacks. How can someone be judged for how they are made - whether it's the color of their skin, their gender, or their sexual preference?

I believe we are born with all these things already burned into our DNA. I suspect any gay or lesbian would tell you the same. Or just ask Pastor Ted, who admits he's fought unsuccessfully against it his entire life.

I wonder how much more peace he'd have felt if he'd accepted himself and preached that acceptance. How many people - so convinced they are repulsive and freaks of nature that they ended their lives - could he truly have saved?