Which is why the law of love introduced by Jesus is the story to tell.
It is the story that saves and heals, that invites and refuses to condemn. Christian, it is the right way and the best way. Jesus’s brother James told us: “If you really keep the royal law found in Scripture, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself,’ you are doing right.” We can stand rightly before God when love leads and compels us. We need not fear that He will say, “You loved too greatly, too liberally, too generously, too shockingly.” The entire story of God reveals a vast, encompassing campaign to love humanity all the way home. It is the clearest picture of Jesus, who we should desire in every heart. People may hate us because of Jesus, but they should never hate Jesus because of us. The way we treat others should lead them to only one conclusion: “If this is how Jesus loves, then I’m in.”
When in doubt, ask yourself: What would love feel like here, to this person? And for the sake of clarity, let’s assume we are not dealing with violent or harmful behavior where someone is endangering herself or others. That is a different category of communication, so don’t let a straw man keep you from engaging in this discussion. Which is: What does love look like in the ordinary connection between two human people? Usually it means prioritizing someone’s dignity, belovedness, and experience over being right or pointing out errors. We may even discover we weren’t so right after all, or at any rate, we didn’t fully understand.
I’ve learned this deeply from friends and leaders in the black community. Previously unaware of systemic injustice, my implicit bias, and my knee-jerk reaction to black pain or outrage, I’ve since discovered that “Yeah, but . . .” or “Well, I’m not . . .” or “Okay, but what about . . .” or “No, it didn’t . . .” is the opposite of love. Love means saying to someone else’s story or pain or anger or experience: “I’m listening. Tell me more.” Love refuses to deny or dismantle another’s perspective simply because I don’t share it. At its core, love means caring more about that person’s soul than anything else. The New Testament coined it with a lovely phrase: preferring others. It’s a super simple approach that would change the whole world.
My girlfriend Jessica and I were talking about the lost art of dialogue this week: the free flow of meaning between two or more people. When we are skilled at dialogue, we create safe spaces for everyone to add their own meanings to a shared pool of understanding, and no matter how much we believe differently, our perspective only occupies a bit of the pool. This may feel threatening at first, especially if the dialogue is controversial or shared between people with different beliefs. But even if we disagree, perhaps even strongly, it is still possible to hold a civil dialogue where ideas find their way out into the open.
Why is this so hard? Staying reasonable and measured and respectful in the midst of charged conversations is a lost art. The way of our generation is outrage, offense, and polarization—our new common language. The Internet has made us casually offensive (because the repercussions are mitigated) and quicker to speak. But dialogue is an activity of curiosity, cooperation, discovery, and learning rather than persuasion, competition, fear, and conflict. This is love, and it is increasingly rare.
Some useful statements to pocket to create safe spaces for discussion:
Tell me more about that.
Tell me how your thoughts progressed in this.
I appreciate your experience with this. I’m listening.
I hear what you are saying.
I would love to learn from you.
I care about how you feel and your perspective here.
I understand that. I identify with that.
What do you think of __________?
I hadn’t thought of it in that way. Thank you for that angle.
Let me think about that a bit before I respond. Thanks for your transparency.
We listen sincerely; we don’t just reload while someone else’s mouth is moving. Dialogue is easily spooked, so you must be vigilant against fear, dismissal, manipulation, and apathy—true enemies of safe dialogue. You’ll feel it at first, deep down, the urge to rebut, rebuke, refute. It will be a cold rock in your gut, tempting you to correct or disagree, or to be offended and center yourself in that person’s story. But that instinct can be overcome, and the results of someone feeling heard and respected are immediate and palpable. It takes a fairly high level of humility, empathy, and courage to keep a space open and healthy. It is a developed skill that takes practice.
To me, that is what love looks and feels like. The Christian cliché “love the sinner, hate the sin” is problematic because it is always long on judgment and short on love. People sense that deeply; they understand when a relationship is fundamentally unsafe, precariously balanced on a scale of disapproval. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but eventually, a fork in the road will come, and the rejection will be painful beyond measure. I am in a couple of relationships exactly like that, except I am the one on the ropes. I hold back from investing because I know the inevitable end game. I am steeling myself against desertion. As kind and polite as these relationships are now, they feel very different from my friendships that are forever, regardless, despite anything, permanent. I don’t know how to explain it, but my soul knows the difference.
It is not my responsibility to change other people, nor them me. It just isn’t. It never was. Remember, the plan involves a heavy, obscene amount of love on my part, but I can take the task of “fixing someone” entirely off the table, permanently. I’m free to love him or her without stipulation, which creates a much wider, safer space to actually let God do what God does, which is redeem all of our lives into glory.
You have this permission, dear one. Can you hear it? Snip, snip, snip. The sound of the strings attached to love clipped right off. No strings. You can love truly, without conditions, without agenda, without a fork in the road, without disapproval, without fear, without obligation. You can love someone with a different ideology, different religious conviction, different sexual identity, ideas, background, ethnicity, opinions, different anything. You can love someone society condemns. You can love someone the church condemns. You have no other responsibility than to represent Jesus well, which should leave that person feeling absurdly loved, welcomed, cherished. There is no other end game. You are not anyone’s savior; you are a sister.