Dear Church,
You have been a comfortable place for me from my youth to my adulthood. A place where I worship, where I serve, where I find fellowship in the 'family of God'. Because I am not a first generation Christian, I did not have to be invited. I was born into your community and raised up in your standards and your convictions. You shone the light on truth and encouraged me to walk in the Spirit and not in the flesh. You organized programs and special events to promote fun, fellowship, and outreach. These programs brought people in to the house of God. In to our territory. Our territory that is familiar, comfortable, and safe to us because we have always known the church. Territory that we know like the back of our hands - the people, the building, the expectations.
Sure, I was comfortable in the church, but I ask myself now, "Was I truly comfortable enough in my faith? Comfortable and confident enough to reach the world in their territory and not my own.
Church, I ask you this...what about those who know nothing of your territory? Those who have never had a Christian in their family. Those who pass you everyday without a thought because you are unfamiliar and foreign in their eyes. Those who sin in ways that you have never dared to entertain because it repulses you.
How do they see you? How does the world see you, the church? Are you a place that says come as you are and means it? Are you a safe place for their darkest sin?
'Hate the sin, love the sinner' is a common phrase I heard growing up, but I think this phrase needs more of an explanation. It was said so often that I think the hate overtook the love. 'Hate the sin, love the sinner' could be recited all day long, but when that sinner who sinned differently than I walked by, the power of hate took over the power of love. My heart would close. My eyes look downward while my feet took me in the opposite direction. That is what I often saw of love - a comfortable love. A love that was comfortable with the liars, the boasters, the envious, the gossip, the lazy, and the worrier. Comfort came through knowledge. A 'this has been spoken on a thousand times' and 'I have memorized Scripture on this topic' kind of knowledge. A 'been there, done that' kind of knowledge paired with a relatable kind of comfort.
Hate the sin, love the sinner. But what if that person sins differently than you ever have? The sin that causes you to become so uncomfortable that you look and turn the other way. At that point, hating the sin has expelled all love.
Love put Jesus on the cross, not hate. He hated sin so much that the just condemnation was hell, yet he loved the sinner so much that he dined with them. He touched them. He came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance (Luke 5:32). Because of His great love, He ultimately died for sinners (John 19). Sin is filthy, but the love of God, the love that we, the church, have access to is more powerful than sin.
Hate the sin, love the sinner.
Church, please do not promote or condone the sin, but I beg of you to invite the sinner in. It is inevitable...if you truly invite the sinner, he will bring his sin. The homosexual. The druggie. The adulterer. Will you love enough to look through the sin and have compassion on the sinner. LOVE THEM! You loved me...
Sure, I was born in to the church. You knew my family. You came to my Christian school sports games. You told me how proud I made you, and you commented on all my Facebook posts. But did you know that I struggled with depression? That I planned and deeply desired to take my own life. Did you know that I battle the urge to exaggerate (lie), and that I crave attention? My sin should repulse you just as much as the pornography addicted man on the second row. My sin put Christ on the cross just as much as his did. God loves me the exact same as He loves him.
I felt comfortable telling you about my struggle with pride. I even felt comfortable opening up about my insecurities and about how I struggled to share my faith with others. But in no way did I feel safe enough to even hint at my deeply rooted fight with depression and suicidal thoughts. Although I am convinced (in hindsight) that there were many who would have been eager to share help and hope with me, my silence was a result of the reality that I had never seen my particular struggle invited in and welcomed with loving, non-judgmental arms.
Looking back, I was fearful of judgment from the people of my territory, my comfort zone. I can only imagine the fear of those not in 'our territory'. The fear of those who so desperately need hope and help and who consistently attempt to fill their need with things that only continue the vicious cycle of emptiness and regret.
In conclusion, hate ALL sin, but do not dare let that hate expel all love. May your love be an ALL CAPS, blinking neon lights sign for all to see that says, "COME AS YOU ARE. COME DINE WITH US. COME WORSHIP WITH US. COME, LET US WALK WITH YOU TOWARD HELP AND HOPE."
Invite the sinner. Expect them to bring their sin. May we love people enough to walk closely beside them on their journey to hope. Someone was willing to walk beside me in my filth, in my sin. Someone was willing to walk beside you in yours. Who will you invite in to your territory with a 'come as you are', and them know that you mean it?
With love,
one of your own
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