SAN FRANCISCO — Which is the “real” San Francisco?

The city we saw from the sky, or the son who greeted us with a big smile and big hugs? We’re here to see our son, of course, so the rest was real estate.

Maybe the “real” San Francisco was the epic downtown that suddenly swung into view as we turned a hilly corner on Route 101. That was just a skyline, however. Whatever famed columnist Herb Caen meant by calling this city “Baghdad by the Bay” could only be discovered at street level, probably on foot.

Our son’s home in the Marina District presented dramatic views of Alcatraz Island and Golden Gate Bridge. Even more drama-worthy was walking with him and his girlfriend up and down hilly streets and hearing them talk about living here.

We climbed a steep hill to Pacific Heights, into the multimillion-dollar vistas much prized by wealthy homeowners. Our real prize was sitting in a busy Moroccan restaurant on Filmore Street and feeling whole as a family.

Will we ever see exactly what led crooner Tony Bennett, the former singing waiter from Queens, New York, to adopt “I Left my Heart in San Francisco” as his signature song? Probably not. But we will discover a portion of what makes our son smile here.

The reality of anything is what we experience of it, especially people moments, surprises and whatever touches our hearts. We can get triumphalist and dogmatic about our experiences, insisting that others replicate them and take them as “true” and “real.” But then they have their own encounters, and they’re all different.

I wish that religious partisans could just relax and stop trying to impose their beliefs on other people. God presents so many different faces to humanity. None of us see exactly the same thing. God is too complex for that. So are we.

This should go without saying. We certainly know this truth when it comes to baseball loyalties, food preferences and the loves of our lives. But religion seems to lead inexorably to fierce partisanship, in which we feel our faith is under assault if others don’t share exactly what we believe.

Religious partisans denounce any path but their own as blasphemy, the work of a “false prophet,” so dangerous to humankind that the eye seeing differently must be plucked out. They quote Bible verses and church doctrines to defend their singular views. When people’s yearning for God simply won’t be channeled into someone else’s narrow horizon, partisans pick up stones and megaphones.

It would be so much better — for us as persons, for our society and for our faith traditions — if we could stop working to disprove Tony Bennett’s song, but instead asked him, “What was it about San Francisco that claimed your heart?” Or if we could stop telling other believers they are wrong, but could ask instead, “In that hour when you first believed, what `amazing grace’ were you experiencing?”

In our four days in San Francisco, we saw only a tiny fraction of what makes this city so beloved by so many. But our experiences are strong and our emotions deep, because this is where our middle son lives and because we are sharing a discovery.

No one else will see this city as we saw it. If any are curious, my best counsel would be Jesus’ invitation to a curious disciple: “Come and see.”

(Tom Ehrich is a writer, church consultant and Episcopal priest based in New York. He is the author of “Just Wondering, Jesus,” and the founder of the Church Wellness Project, http://www.churchwellness.com. His Web site is http://www.morningwalkmedia.com.)