Love the Sinner, Hate the Sin: Mormons, Christians, You’ve Missed the Mark.

Come and sit, they say. Just not here. Not in the nest. Not in the font. Not in the front row. Come, come and sit, they say. There. Sit there. In the foyer. On the edges. On the fringes. In the back row.

Listen to us, they say. Come early. Leave your phones. Bring your empty cups, and we will fill them. Listen to us, they say. You will hear our voices. You will hear their voices. Shhh…don’t talk. Just listen.

We love you! They say. (We fear you, they whisper). We welcome you! They say. (Because we must, they whisper). It’s not you, they say. It’s just what you do (It’s just who you are).

And that’s what they don’t understand. Or maybe they do, and they just look away.

Love.

It’s a short word. But inside is a Pandora’s box of possibilities. It means so many things to so many people. Perhaps there is no one definition. But at the very least, love must be more than a feeling one keeps to themselves or speaks only in their prayers. Surely, love without works is dead.

In the wake of the rip curl that is this week’s revelatory God punk from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, many of the most wonderful people I know are left wondering whether they’ve just been pulled under the waves or spit back out on the shore. Either way, they’re gasping for air. Gasping for love.

Less than 3.5 years ago,

the LDS church’s prophet followed the steps of seeking prophetic revelation and received guidance from an unchanging God: that married gay couples should be excommunicated from the church, and that children of gay parents should not be baptized until they turned 18 years of age and disavowed their parents’ practices.

“It’s a matter of being clear;” the church’s apostle said, “it’s a matter of understanding right and wrong; it’s a matter of a firm policy that doesn’t allow for question or doubt.” And “it’s about love,” he said.

At 8 years old, other children would be getting dressed up in white, singing songs about rainbows (ironically), and being held and hugged and loved by family flying in from all over the country. But the children of gay parents would sit on the sides, second-string, folding the programs and wondering who on earth (or in heaven) would come to their adult baptisms once they’d disavowed their parents’ practices, practices, they knew, of course, were part of who their parents were, not just how their parents acted. The children of gay parents would be sitting alone, feeling this policy of “love” punch them in the gut.

Love the sinner, hate the sin, they said. But they never explained how.

Less than 3.5 days ago,

God changed his mind. The prophet of the LDS church proclaimed that married gay couples are no longer considered apostates. They are simply committing “serious transgressions.” And their children can now be baptized at 8 years old like the other children.

Less than 3.5 years ago, God “never excused or winked at sin. He never redefined it.”

Less than 3.5 days ago, God redefined the “sin” of gay marriage from “apostasy” to “transgression.”

What a strange Abrahamic trial it is to see God struggle with indecision and to lag just a few years behind research and science. Or perhaps it wasn’t God’s voice after all. Perhaps there had just been too much collateral damage. Perhaps there had just been too much bad PR.

Or perhaps it was God’s voice and He is just done separating the wheat from the tares.

Do you know how tares are separated? Once the wheat has been collected in, safe and preserved, the tares are lit aflame and burned to the ground.

Burned to the ground.

Is that how we love the sinner and hate the sin?

Love.

It’s a short word. But it’s really not that difficult. Love means pulling you from the flames. Love means bringing you to safety. Love means building you a nest. Love means letting you fly.

Love means inviting you to dinner: both of you. Love means calling to say hello without adding a warning. Love means celebrating in your joy. Love means stepping into your life instead of just inviting you into theirs.

And love means they apologize.

When they’ve hurt you so badly that it echoes through the marrow of your bones and shakes your every step, they apologize. When they’ve crossed out your children and sent them to their graves, they apologize. When they’ve committed eternal murder against your sisters, your brothers, your others, your friends, they apologize. When they’ve stamped them and sorted them and found them wanting but were wrong, they apologize.

Love apologizes. Love means it. Love acknowledges what it can before seeking to change. It is the widow’s mite: not much, but all they can give after so much destruction.

But, they say, what if apologies are mistaken for license? For complicity? For condoning?

Mormons, Christians, hear this: your voice of condemnation is loud and clear. It has been heard. It is a bell that cannot be unrung. You have hated the sin with all your might, mind, and strength. We have heard.

Mormons, Christians, hear this: your voice of love is drowned out by your cry of fear, of rigidity, of pride.

Less than 3.5 years ago, a tsunami rushed over the homes of my dearest friends. Less than 3.5 days ago, the waves crashed down on them again. Some of my friends were pulled under the waves. Others were spit out onto the sand. The ocean refused to acknowledge its wake. And the people are drowning still, waiting for an outstretched hand to truly love them. Truly.

Because, as the LDS apostle said, “ There’s no kindness in misdirecting people and leading them into any misunderstanding about what is true.”

Love the person. Leave hate alone. That is all.