Loving the Lost
Have you experienced a feeling of grief when your Christian friend turned away from faith as she became a teen? Perhaps someone you care about is getting caught up in a lifestyle which conflicts with basic Christian beliefs and you’re not sure how to stay friends without affirming things you know are sinful. Saint Maximos expressed this tension between grief at sin and love for our friend so beautifully when he wrote “The person who loves God cannot help loving every man as himself, even though he is grieved by the passions of those who are not yet purified. But when they amend their lives, his delight is indescribable and knows no bounds.”
When I was a teenager, I wouldn’t have described myself as a Christian. I wasn’t an atheist because I didn’t want to outright reject God just in case He was really there, but Christianity seemed like empty wishful thinking to me. If God was there, He didn’t seem to be paying much attention to the hurt people around me. I didn’t see His hand protecting my family when my brother was diagnosed with a serious mental illness. Also, I sure didn’t visualize His love washing over the ugly church squabbles that had hurt my parents so much. Once I started doubting, those doubts spread and I found myself involved in things I never would have chosen if I had thought about them from a foundation of faith and trust in God. I was the friend who walked away from faith and into trouble. By the time I turned eighteen, I was glad to be old enough to decide not to go to church anymore and had no intentions of ever going back -except maybe for Christmas.
My childhood best friend Julia, who was less impetuous and stormy than I was, remained a steadfast Christian. Somehow, she was able to gracefully navigate her faith as a teen. Even though I didn’t hang out with her as much once I got into my angry girl phase, the influence of Julia’s faith was a calm presence in my life. Her life showed me that teenage faith was possible and if I had let myself think about it, her steadiness might have raised doubts about the wisdom of my rebellion and the consequences of it that I was starting to feel.
In college, I hit a time of crisis. This wasn’t a little blip; this was a life changing I -don’t- know-what’s- going- to -become- of- me crisis. Julia unexpectedly called me and invited me to come see her. I took a bus to Providence, Rhode Island to visit her. I didn’t know what to expect when I arrived. I felt so humiliated. My life was truly a mess of my own making, but she never condemned. She welcomed me as the old friend I was. She did ask one question which surprised me. Julia calmly but directly asked me how my relationship with Christ was as though I had one and it was a perfectly natural thing to talk about.
I felt I had no relationship with Christ, and it hadn’t occurred to me in years that I could have one, so I avoided a straight answer. She didn’t press the issue, but she had gently planted a seed. Over the next year, other Christians also met me where I was with loving grace. One of those Christians was my brother who struggled with mental illness. His kindness to me was not in spite of his challenges, it seemed compassion had grown out of the faith in God he sought within his struggles. The church where we’d experienced such confusion and hurt when I was in high school was still bickering, but my parents were building a new life in another state. Even though they’d felt deep hurt from their church, they didn’t hold that against God. My parents greeted every morning by reading the Bible and then holding hands in prayer. That was a strong testimony to me, as was the acceptance, love, and generosity shown to me by many other Christians. In time, I let go of my defensive anger at God and started to comprehend His loving hand in my life. I turned back to Christ when I was twenty. In a few years, Julia became the godmother of my oldest son and we share a life-long friendship, centered on our common faith and childhood bonds.
Sometimes we look at our friends and all we can see is their foolishness. I’m sure Julia saw plenty of that when she looked at me in high school, but she kept the door of our friendship open without entering into my crazy world. It takes a strong, steady character to stay friends without falling with your friend, but it’s possible if you keep your own healthy boundaries up by not compromising your faith.
Often not compromising means not hanging out very much. In high school and early college, many feel intense pressure to fit in, but you never know how much hope you might give someone else by not going along with the crowd. Even if you can’t do much with your friend, if you have a real friendship underneath you might keep an openness in your heart towards her because you know she is not beyond the reach of God’s love. Praying is a powerful way to do this, and God will help you discern how close to get or when a little distance is better. Loving the lost can be a hard task because she might resent our love, attack our faith, and even hate us for not entering into sin with them. We don’t often see changes, but we are called to love none the less and God helps us know how to live that love within our own circumstances.
Loving the lost is something Christ does so eloquently, and He has shown that in His love for us.
