Love Without Shame by

“Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake.

Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven.”

— Matthew 5:11-12

For many LGBTQ+ Christians, these words from Jesus can feel painfully familiar. We know what it is like to be judged by people who believe they are speaking for God. We know what it is like to hear that our love is sinful, that our relationships are somehow less worthy, or even that there is no place for us within the Church unless we deny an essential part of ourselves.

Sometimes those words come from strangers. Sometimes they come from churches we once called home. Most painfully, they can come from people we love.

Yet Jesus never tells us that the approval of others is the measure of our faithfulness. In the Sermon on the Mount, He acknowledges that those who seek to follow Him may be reviled, persecuted, and falsely accused. His response is not to tell them to change themselves so that their critics will approve of them. Instead, He reminds them where their true worth lies.

Our relationship with God cannot be measured by someone else’s willingness to accept us.

That does not mean every criticism directed toward us should simply be dismissed. None of us is beyond correction. Following Christ requires continual examination of our lives, our motives, and our actions. But there is an important difference between conviction and condemnation. Conviction calls us toward greater love, mercy, humility, honesty, and justice. Condemnation merely tells us that we are unworthy of love.

Paul offers us a way to distinguish between the two:

“And this I pray, that your love may abound yet more and more in knowledge and in all judgment;
That ye may approve things that are excellent; that ye may be sincere and without offense till the day of Christ.”— Philippians 1:9-10

Notice what Paul places at the center of discernment: love.

He does not pray merely that the Philippians will acquire more rules. He prays that their love will grow in knowledge and judgment so that they can recognize what is truly excellent.

Christian discernment, therefore, should never be separated from love.

Jesus Himself tells us that the greatest commandments are to love God and to love our neighbors (Matthew 22:37-39). He tells us that others will recognize His disciples by their love for one another (John 13:35). Paul tells us that without love, even extraordinary faith amounts to nothing (1 Corinthians 13:2).

That gives us a powerful question to ask when someone claims to speak for God: What fruit does their message produce?

Does it lead toward love, compassion, mercy, justice, faithfulness, and hope? Or does it produce shame, hatred, cruelty, despair, and rejection?

Jesus warned us that we would know false prophets “by their fruits” (Matthew 7:16). A theology that repeatedly produces misery, self-hatred, broken families, abandoned faith, and despair deserves serious examination.

For LGBTQ+ Christians, discernment becomes especially important because we are often confronted with people who quote Scripture while ignoring the larger message of Scripture. A handful of passages are sometimes elevated above everything Jesus taught about love, mercy, humility, justice, and the treatment of those whom society pushes aside.

We should study Scripture carefully. We should pray. We should seek wisdom. We should remain humble enough to examine ourselves.

But we should not confuse someone else’s prejudice with God’s judgment.

And we should never believe that suffering rejection somehow means that God has rejected us.

Jesus repeatedly welcomed those whom respectable religious society pushed aside. He touched people others considered unclean. He ate with people others considered sinners. He defended those whom others were eager to condemn. Again and again, Christ moved toward people whom society pushed away.

That should tell us something about the heart of God.

At the same time, Philippians challenges us not merely to endure rejection but to respond to it as Christians. Hurt can easily become bitterness. After being condemned repeatedly, it is tempting to return condemnation for condemnation.

But Paul prays that our love may abound yet more and more.

That may be one of the hardest parts of Christian discipleship.

We can stand firmly against injustice without becoming cruel. We can reject harmful theology without hating those who believe it. We can defend ourselves without surrendering our compassion. We can refuse to be ashamed while still remembering Christ’s command to love even those who treat us as enemies.

Our love does not have to become smaller because someone else’s love has limits.

Perhaps that is one of the most powerful witnesses LGBTQ+ Christians can offer the Church.

We can live openly and faithfully. We can love generously. We can show kindness. We can seek justice. We can forgive when forgiveness is possible while maintaining necessary boundaries. We can worship God without apologizing for the people God created us to be.

And when others revile us, exclude us, or falsely condemn us in God’s name, we can remember the words of Christ: “Rejoice, and be exceeding glad.”

Not because rejection does not hurt.

Not because injustice should be ignored.

But because those who condemn us do not have the final word about our relationship with God.

God does.

So let our prayer be Paul’s prayer: that our love will continue to grow—not blindly, but “in knowledge and in all judgment.” May we have the wisdom to recognize what is good, the courage to reject what is harmful, and the faith to remain true to Christ even when others tell us we do not belong.

Above all, may we never allow the hatred of others to teach us how to hate.

We belong to a Savior who told the rejected they were blessed, who welcomed those others pushed aside, and who made love the defining mark of His disciples.

Let us live accordingly.