For a week I’ve pondered what my response should be to the blatant sin and pagan displays included in the Paris Olympic opening ceremonies. Should I be offended? Angered? Should I call for political support so that, with the force of government, we might force sin back into its closet? Should my witness consist of angry shouts of their lostness and eternal damnation? Is this what it means to preach the gospel? Should I play the victim, taking their sin as a personal offense, even equating it to persecution?
All of these responses have run through my social media feeds this week, along with a few reminding us that sinners do what sinners do. I admit, I’m in this latter camp, none of whom have shown support for the ceremonies, yet we still seem to exacerbate the anger of the former revealing not only division between Christ followers and the world, but among Christ followers themselves.
For me, this is no trivial matter. My heart is heavy. I love the church of Jesus Christ, and division among believers is serious (Jn. 17:21; 1 Cor. 1:10). But I also seek to love unbelievers, even those acting against my interest (Matt. 5:44). I’ll admit, this one is harder, but I cannot escape the words of my Savior. To love Him means I will love them. And not in words only, or in the way angry siblings might shout at one another, but love them in a way that prompts action.
As a young adult in Houston, my hometown emerged as the southern epicenter of LGBTQ+ expression. Youth ministers would pack up their vans, drive through the Montrose area along Westheimer Blvd, pointing out crowds outside the gay bars and the transgendered teens and adults on the streets. Many would shout angry words of biblical condemnation. On one occasion I watched teens in a church van tossing eggs at the patrons of a club frequented by the transgendered. Most returned to their church with a sense of superiority, discussing how much better “the Christian life” was.
But there was one. I don’t recall his name, but I do remember him buying a home along Westheimer. Every evening when the streets came to life he would come outside with water, food, and friendly conversation. While he never approved of their sin, the trust earned as he listened to their stories paved the way for his gospel witness. Learning that many came from abusive backgrounds, he provided them a safe haven, a place to detox, and more opportunity for them to discover God’s grace. He didn’t stop the area’s moral decline. Such is life in a fallen world. But his witness over time drew hundreds of broken souls from death to life. Hated by many in the community, he was often unwelcome by other Christians. Yet he remained God’s faithful witness.
Church, we can never celebrate sin! My Christian brothers and sisters ought to be unsettled by much of what those opening ceremonies portrayed, and by any celebration of sin and mockery of Lord. But anger and offense will not bring about the righteousness of God (James 1:20). That unsettled feeling reminds us this world is not our home. Hold on to it! Let the unsettledness drive you to seek the Lord deeply, obey him faithfully, and love the lost demonstrably, that our witness may draw some to the Savior.