A WOMAN once said to me, “I’ve come to believe that some of them genuinely can’t help it, but the majority choose to be gay and it’s terribly sad.”

That women was a relative and I didn’t say anything because, while her church had taught her to be wary of homosexuality, my church had taught me to always respect my elders. My silence shames me now to think about it.

I thought it about it afresh as I read Tim Farron’s statement on standing down as leader of the Liberal Democrats.

Mr Farron, an evangelical Christian, has found that adhering to his Christian beliefs and leading a political party are incompatible. “A better, wiser person than me may have been able to deal with this more successfully.”

The MP’s statement both outlines his devotion to his faith and to the liberal cause; portrays him both as martyr to that faith and as a champion of liberal values.

At no point is it outlined explicitly, but Mr Farron’s moral straining arises from his views on homosexuality. While he has stated that he does not believe being gay or gay sex to be a sin, he has a questionable voting record on gay rights and has previously refused to state clearly his beliefs.

Defenders of Mr Farron admire his refusal to live as a hypocrite and his moral stance that his beliefs are his own and not to be forced on others. They lament that he was treated with suspicion by the media, persecuted for his faith.

In his statement, Mr Farron appears to lean towards this notion that homosexuality is a choice: “I am passionate about defending the rights and liberties of people who believe different things to me.” Being gay is not a “belief”.

His resignation speech would also suggest there is only one way to live as a Christian. And yet he says, “There are Christians in politics who take the view that they should impose the tenets of faith on society, but I have not taken that approach because I disagree with it.” And so, there, how one lives one’s faith is flexible. Faith, in fact, not homosexuality, is the belief and the choice.

He tells voters also that, due to the querying of his Christianity, “we are kidding ourselves if we think we yet live in a tolerant, liberal society.”

It is not liberal to condone bigotry, it is not tolerance to turn a blind eye to intolerance. It is one thing to desire respect for your choice to attend church on a Sunday and quite another to expect respect for your adherence to the belief that some people are perverted by sin.

Tim Farron is correct to assert that he has been viewed with suspicion for his Christian faith and heavily questioned by the media but he is wrong to be upset by it. It is quite right that views which contribute to a swathe of the population being vilified, marginalised and bullied are questioned. It makes no difference that Mr Farron was tolerant towards gay people.

The very act of saying you tolerate gay people indicates a belief that there is something untoward about them. Gay people do not want to be tolerated. They just want to be, the same as everyone else.

Faith in public life was not in question: outdated and damaging views were.

The parable of Tim Farron would suggest progressive politics and Christianity are uneasy bedfellows. To live as a Christian, ideally, is to desire a life of service to others. Should this not also be politics?

Mr Farron’s persecution complex suggests that in a secular society religious people are vilified and must cloak their beliefs. “A better, wiser person” would understand the value of frankness. They would also understand that if one’s views make one unelectable that is not aggressive secularism. It is that voters do not want to be represented by someone they do not agree with. That is their right.

Mr Farron ends his resignation speech with the final words of When I Survey the Wondrous Cross. Had he moved back one line the words would have been thus: “Love so amazing, so divine.”

How ironic, then, that he is standing down over his inability to accept love of a different kind.