{This post was originally written in November 2016 and republished as part of this series.}

Homosexuality.  

It's a hot-button issue these days, and I have many thoughts.

The internet is often a loud and crowded place, so let's imagine we're sitting on the food-stained chairs around my kitchen table with a warm cup of coffee in hand. Now, depending on the time of day, I can't guarantee it will be any quieter, but I hope the smile on my face and warmth of the mug assures you that you're welcome here.

First, let me tell you what I know. And by know, I mean what I've experienced.

I know that for the last year or so, around this very same kitchen table, I've been cultivating a relationship with the youth of the neighborhood. They come and go at all hours of the day, and they don't even bother to knock before they come inside anymore. Because now, it's home.

Of the handful of teenage girls that stop by to visit, every last one of them identifies as lesbian. I'll be honest and say this was uncharted territory for me, so I ask a lot of questions, both of God and them. I've braved through the awkwardness, and they, in turn, have been surprisingly open with me. Like any other teenager, they just want to know that they are heard and loved, no matter what. That their souls and stories are safe here.

The first time the group of them gathered around the table with their cups of coffee and asked for advice on the relationship drama that currently plagued them, I prayed a silent prayer while I listened, which went something like, "Oh, Lord... I need wisdom. I'm so out of my depth here. Please help."

I put on my best poker face and tried not to look shocked by any of it. I decided that if Jesus wouldn't be surprised by our delicate issues, then I shouldn't be, either. When people open their heart and lay it bare for all to see, sometimes with fear and trembling, we must remember that we are treading on holy ground. To be fully known and still wholly loved...isn't that what God wants with us and for us? It's a sacred space, and we must treat it as such.

We talked about the difference between love and infatuation, what dating a friend can do to friendships in the long run, and how when you date a person you also date their family. And you know what? I've lost count of the number of times they've returned and told me, "mom, you give the best advice!!"

As we've opened the door to our home, they have seen us in all our everyday, ordinary, imperfect glory. As we've invited them to the table and listened to their stories without an agenda, they have opened the door to their hearts. It's taken a lot of time and intentionality, but we're slowly earning the privilege to speak the truth in love.

The truth is a powerful thing, and we fling it around much too carelessly these days. We use it as a bludgeon to beat those who are already down, vulnerable and oppressed by a society that views them as worthless or weird. We turn it into ear-deafening noise and bully those we don't even know because we Christians have the "right" to speak truth, especially on the internet. We look at ourselves in the mirror and think because we don't personally struggle with X, Y, or Z that we're not like those other "sinners," the ones that could never know God because of their lifestyle.

I believe what you call that, my friends, is PRIDE. And pride and love cannot coexist.

Sadly, Church, we don't often speak the truth in love. We speak the truth in PRIDE.

Pride loves to tell its own story and jumps at the opportunity to give unsolicited advice or "fix" others. Love listens without agenda. Love asks questions and tries to understand.

Pride is convinced it has the cornerstone on truth and won't have anything to do with someone who might challenge what they "know." Love is soft and open, realizing how little they know of the big picture. Love is a student of people's lives.

Pride assumes it has someone all figured out because it knows "their kind." Love knows that everyone has a story, and there's a reason for every behavior. Love understands people are doing the best they can with what they have and doesn't condemn.

Pride enjoys its own perspective and opinion and has no need for others. Love knows its outlook is just one piece of the puzzle of humanity and values other opinions and perspectives, especially the challenge of those radically opposed to their own.

Pride judges others and is quick to feel better or superior, assuming the worst of people who are different. Love is open and vulnerable, viewing the world and the people in it through eyes of humility.

Pride uses conversations to talk about themselves. Love uses conversations to get to know people in greater depth.

Pride loves an audience and gets a rush out of defending the truth. Love knows the truth doesn't require a defense, that the truth can speak for itself if the audience is wooed to it through a relationship built on unconditional love.

Pride is quick to insist that it is not, in fact, prideful, and also quick to point out the sin in others. Love fully acknowledges that all are sinners in desperate need of a Savior and His grace, that we are fellow travelers on a journey toward freedom in Christ.

Pride seeks converts and numbers. Love, with eyes of compassion and grace, seeks freedom.

Pride singles out certain sins and believes them to be worse than others, which inevitably results in distance and exclusion.  Love knows that, regardless of our sin of choice, we are all just searching for Jesus.

Pride has an agenda and attempts to bend and direct relationships accordingly. Love is selfless, putting the interests of others above their own without condition.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. {1 Corinthians 13:4-7}

 It is impossible to speak the truth in love outside the context of a relationship.

To speak the truth in love requires a foundation of trust, or the relationship will not be able to withstand the weight of it and collapse. Even after you've spent time intentionally laboring in the trenches and cultivating a relationship, speaking the truth is always a very delicate matter. It's treading on sacred ground.

If I was talking with my girls, this is right around the time I would ask, may I speak plainly?

I'm thankful for the many times He reminds us to love one another in Scripture, for the example Jesus set, teaching us how to live, because sometimes we don't know how to be human without being an asshole. God doesn't bludgeon us over the head with the truth, argue the truth with us, or demand we conform to the truth. While we were still sinners, He laid down his life for us in the greatest display of unconditional love in history. As Christians, He requires the same of us--the laying down of our lives for others. In Jesus there is indeed freedom, but it may cost you everything.`

And I remind you of that today, as we're chatting here at the kitchen table, because I want you to remember what it felt like when you first experienced His unconditional love. How it wrecked the world you thought you knew in the best possible way, how your outlook on reality as you knew it was shattered forever. How He rescued you from the filth of your sin with no strings attached, simply because He loves you. For freedom's sake He set you free, that you may run and not grow weary as you follow along after Him.

I want you to remember that the truth is wonderful, freeing, and radically life changing. But it must be paired with selfless love or it is nothing more than noise to anyone who hears it. Why would anyone ever consider the cost of knowing Christ--the laying down of their very life and all the sin in it--if they know nothing of His radical, illogical, sacrificial love?

The ability to speak the truth in love is a privilege that must be earned. It's not a right simply because you're a Christian.

It's so vitally important to love well, Church, because these girls and their community are hurting. They are scared of a God they only know as judgemental and condemning and terrified of His church people. They've been ostracized, cut off, and told they would burn in hell.

In an unsure and guarded voice, they say, "I'd like to come to church with you on Sunday, but am I allowed? Because I used to go to church, and they told me I couldn't come anymore because I'm gay. Will your church welcome...someone like me??"

My heart broke into a million pieces.

Of course you are welcome here.

We all have stuff, every last one of us. Not one is "good enough." I sit in the pew next to homeless men with alcohol on their breath. I worship in the company of prostitutes, felons, recovering addicts, and those still in the throes of the disease. The church should be a sanctuary for sinners, a hospital for the sick, a salve for the soul of the broken...not a country club where pious, modern-day pharisees look pretty and pay their dues.

Life is hard. It's not easy to figure out how to exist together as sinners. How to lay down our lives and the right to be right, how to truly love one another. But believe me when I tell you, it's worth it.

It's so worth it.

This post is part of a series I’m writing for the month of October called, 31 Ways God Paved the Road to Urban Missions. If you’re interested in the reading the rest of the series, you can find it here. To receive these posts directly in your inbox every week, subscribe below!