The fantasy, whether open or secret, that the world (or even your town or neighborhood, for that matter) will or should come around to your way of thinking, removes--were it fulfilled--the discomfort and opportunity of contending with the radically "other." To me, that represents a loss. 

Many faith traditions, including some life perspectives which can be described as atheist-humanistic, recognize that civility and kindness lived-out towards those who are different from one's self speaks more highly of one's integrity than when kindness is reserved only for those who are essentially similar. In Christianity, this idea is embodied in these words of Christ:

"You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect" (Mt. 5:43-48).

To my mind, pluralism, far from being merely a transitory intermediate state that must be tolerated until the ideal kingdom arrives, is perhaps the best possible arrangement in which love and respect for the radically other can be practiced. It requires adherents of different faith communities and life perspectives to measure their virtue not just by how they fulfill the practices internal to their own group, but by how well they can navigate the sea of broader humanity--including when that doesn't accommodate one's own perspective in a cozy, convenient way. It also can nurture and enliven particular faith communities in their activities of gathering together for worship, fellowship, or service, as individuals help each other not only towards fulfilling practices specific to their tradition, but in understanding how these practices relate to the task of being a positive presence in the world--when "world" includes many who will not clap for you simply because you satisfied various religious commitments, except to the extent those translate successfully to the common language of human goodness and decency. The world (rightly, I think) considers hypocritical a spirituality that bears fruit whose sweetness can be tasted only by insiders to the tradition.

So, if you espouse hope for a world in which everyone eventually has the same beliefs, even if those beliefs are mine, that's a world I'd rather not live in. A world made up of people with diverse perspectives, who are learning to refine themselves and their tradition through criteria which include the ceaseless requirement of tolerance and kindness towards others, strikes me as far more interesting, life-giving, and true.