On not glossing over the nitty-gritty of the social issues

It would be interesting to know if any cultural historians have ever looked into the first usage of the terms "social conservative" and "social issues" in our national conversation.  My sense is that it occurred at some point during conservatism's emergence into the political and cultural mainstream in the 1980s.  The irony of that period is that at just about the time comprehensive conservatism, equally emphasizing the three pillars of foreign policy, free-market economics, and traditional norms, customs and moral notions, fully introduced itself to the American public, it began to fray. Certainly within the foreign-policy realm, you had paleocons like Pat Buchanan and radical isolationists like Paul Craig Roberts and Joe Sobran resolutely divorcing themselves from the neoconservative position championed by Jeanne Kirkpatrick, Elliot Abrams, Richard Perle and the like, with Nixon-style "realists" like Scowcroft and Baker offering a sort of muddled middle way.  And some of this spilled over into the economic realm, with a certain brand of protectionist disparaging international trade agreements and the free flow of jobs throughout the world.  And there was overlap with, as well as a complete distancing from,  people in these various camps and those we have come to call social conservatives.
By the time Mitt Romney lost to the Most Equal Comrade in November 2012, some deeply disappointed folks, notably self-described homosexual conservatives, were stressing the prescription, which had been around for a while, that the first thing that involved, committed, right-of-center citizens needed to do was shelve the "social issues" and focus on debt, taxes, job creation, and American global leadership.  They were clearly bolstered in this assertion by the idiotic campaign mistakes of Todd Akin and Richard Mourdock, which shifted the dynamics of the election at most levels.
This way of thinking has been reinforced by two recent documents, the RNC's "autopsy" and the College Republican National Committee's report on why young Americans are soured on the GOP brand.  Both of these papers point out a widespread public perception that Republicans, insofar as they embody any kind of commonly held definition of conservatism, are "out of touch" and "intolerant."
While there's much to criticize about both the methodology and the conclusions of these reports, they appear to be on to something, if the anecdotal evidence of a scroll through one's Facebook newsfeed is any indicator.  Just today, one of my "friends" posted a five-panel comic strip about an exasperated God - portrayed as He often is, sitting on a cloud with a long-flowing beard -  griping about humans still persecuting each other over their different approaches to Him, and still "hating on gays."
Here the whole thing hits close to home, and it seems that that which I observe and experience and reflect on daily is forcing me to a point of conclusion.
The difficulty for me is determining whether I am qualified to speak for Christianity, since, as I often say, I am "leaning towards" it.  And the matters that have invited such vilification of it in our time are precisely why I go that far, and that far only.
Real Christianity - and I mean the doctrine that spells out the way God designed human sexuality, as well as the universal need for salvation, not the "Jesus-was-a-man-of-peace-and-an-activist-for-the-poor" pop outlook that secularists trot out in a faux-defense of it - is tough.  It is enormously challenging.  It brings up your stuff.  It says that our imperfections - and we all have them, according to this doctrine - must be dealt with before we can stand before God, and that Christ's sacrifice on Calvary was the only way it could be dealt with, due to our free will.  (This is one of my sticking points; more often than I'd like, it looks like a rigged game to me.)
There are very clear prohibitions, in both the Old Testament and New, against homosexual behavior and, indeed, any sexual behavior that is licentious.  It's quite clear from Mosaic law, the letters of Paul, and, indeed, the teachings of the Nazarene himself, that sexual intimacy has a very distinct purpose in human life - that is, to make the two opposite forms of human nature one, and thereby make possible the injection of yet more human souls into this realm.
The main sticking point that occurs at this juncture is the whole born-this-way / behavioral-choice dichotomy, and the fact of the matter is that no geneticist or psychiatrist has ever conclusively resolved it.  It's pretty clear that most people who live as homosexuals, certainly those who enjoy long-term committal relationships similar to marriage, have been primarily or even exclusively attracted to their own gender for as long as they can remember.  So there's no denying that Paul's admonition in Romans I: 26-27 comes across as harsh to them, and maybe even to all of us.
Then there's the perhaps even stickier matter of hierarchy within a marriage.  Again, there is abundant scriptural confirmation of the man's leadership role in matrimony.  While one rarely hears the term "obey" in vows exchanged in church ceremonies anymore, several ritual vestiges remain that confirm that the shift in life circumstances is going to be bigger for the woman than for the man: the still-much-practiced giving away of the bride by the father, the fact that she is the focus of attention, with the groom and his groomsmen, as well as the minister and even all the bridesmaids that precede her turning to gasp at her splendor as the music suddenly turns to something appropriately anthemic.  Joe Smith the groom is going to continue through life as Joe Smith, working and saving and making strategic decisions about where to live and what to do, with the implication being that Suzy the bride is going to take her cue from that and figure out how she fits into his vision.
Studies on single parenthood or how the modern educational system affects boys and girls differently are important and point out trends that must be grappled with.  But there is a further level that such inquiries do not address, perhaps for fear of complicating things beyond the intended scope of discussion.
And by complication, part of what I mean is having to wade through the whole "hater" discussion.  The difficulty is that to a postmodern secularist unacquainted with the particulars of scripture, it does indeed look an awful lot like hate. 
But a Christian - and, again, I mean a we-are-all-sinners-in-need-of-grace Christian, not the Jesus-just-wants-us-to-be-nice kind - will tell you that he or she is as far removed from hate, bigotry or a desire to oppress anybody as possible.  He or she is not judging or casting aspersions upon, but merely engaging the world informed by the Word of God.  For the Christian, Mosaic law, the letters of Paul and the teachings of Christ are as much fact as what a rudimentary science text has to say about the temperature at which water freezes.
Therefore, a much stronger argument could be made that it is the secularist, perfectly comfortable with tossing millennia-old institutions and norms - institutions and norms that are foundational to the formation of broader institutions such as the nation-state -  overboard who is the one being judgmental and seeking to curb others' freedom.
Still, until I resolve for myself my remaining sticking points, I don't know that I am the best one to make the case for this.
I can say unequivocally that for some reason it hurts personally when I see Christians subjected to dismissiveness, scorn, contempt and vitriol.
It just doesn't seem right, and the search for what is absolutely right, it seems to me, lies at the heart of the whole realm of "social issues."