When we look for goodness, we will find it

I met my old high school friend Jo for lunch yesterday. It had been nearly four decades since I'd seen her. The last time I was with Jo, I didn't know her as gay.

Yesterday, I did.

There was a point in our conversation when she was talking about some of the damaged and broken relationships she's faced along the way because she quit hiding that she is gay. And at one point, she looked at me and said, "it's hard, because I'm a good person, and I have a lot to offer the people in my life."

My heart broke. It breaks again as I write that.

I thought, how did we get here? Because forty years ago - and yesterday - I've never known Jo to be anything BUT a good person. What can possibly make a genuinely good person suddenly feel like they have to fight to be seen as good?

It's a rhetorical question, because I know the answer to that. We do. We make good people feel like they have to fight for their goodness.

We do it when we start deciding which parts of someone's character are character flaws. And then further decide which of those flaws make them unworthy of our love and admiration.

The Jo I spent two hours with yesterday was the same Jo I knew nearly 40 years ago. She treated me with as much love and respect as she ever had. Her smile was as big as ever. Her enthusiasm for life still giant. Her laugh could still fill a room - or restaurant 😊.

Yet, you could see how the fight had hurt her.

How we had hurt her.

I won't pretend to know how deep that hurt is. But I have had a taste of it the last few years. Coming out as divorced doesn't come with near the judgment as coming out as gay does. But in some circles it sure does.

In some circles, divorced means people who at one time couldn't wait to talk to you now pass you by in a hallway like you're invisible. People who used to smile and shake your hand when you walked into their church now let you find a quiet corner to sit in to be with God by yourself.

Maybe believing you need the extra alone time with him?

That is backwards to me. Absolutely and hurtfully backwards. Because it was the people that other people judged as flawed characters that Jesus flocked to. Flocked to so he could be the first to tell them, I don't care what THEY think your flaws are, I'm here to tell you I still see your goodness.

I still deeply love who you are.

One of the ugliest Christian sayings is "hate the sin, love the sinner." It's ugly first, because it's a lie. People don't love the sinner once they decide they hate their idea of someone's sin. They don't. And second, it's not even Christian. Jesus didn't die on the cross because he hated sin but loved the sinner.

He died on the cross because he loved the sinner. That's all. No balancing the hate and love. Just ALL IN on loving the sinner. Which by the way, included every single human being on earth but him.

Jesus is the only human ever to declare, you know what - you're all flawed. But I love you all just the same. It was us who started ranking flaws. It was us who started ordering them by lovable and unlovable. It was us who started decided good or not good.

I am sorry for my friend. I am sorry that somewhere along the way people lost sight of her goodness because of who she loves.

Before we left yesterday, my friend Jo assured me that one day I will find the kind of love she has experienced with her wife Linda. And you know what, I unashamedly find beauty and hope in that.

I find goodness in that.

I was reminded yesterday that a lot of people have lost touch with their own goodness. There are a lot of us running around suddenly feeling like we have to prove our goodness, convince people we have a lot to offer to a relationship.

Maybe we could help with that. Maybe we could peel back the curtains of these flaws we have hung over the characters of the people around us, peek inside, and remind the character within that they are loved.

That we see their goodness.