From the blog of the late Rachel Held Evans: Thoughts about how to "love like Jesus"

“There’s a blog post circulating around Facebook written by a conservative Christian woman who encountered an old friend at a retail store who had transitioned - the writer remembered her friend as a man, but the friend had since embraced her identity as a woman. The writer says she was initially surprised, but sensing her friend’s fear of judgment, decided to simply “love like Jesus.” In a follow up post, the writer compared her own Christlike love for her trans friend to the love Jesus showed the woman caught in adultery.

Now, I don’t want to heap any more criticism upon this writer than she’s already received. (A quick glance at the comments serves as a sad reminder that in some religious circles, simply being decent to a trans person is considered highly controversial.) Grace recognizes that this woman’s choice of kindness over judgment and compassion over condemnation – particularly when those choices are unpopular in her community – is noble and good. I want to honor that.

And yet…

I can’t help but imagine things from the old friend’s perspective. The encounter appears to have made this trans woman nervous, and I suspect it’s because her past includes a lot of fear, heartache, and judgment. That she too responded to the encounter with decorum and grace represents an act of Christlike love.

In my conversations with LGBT people, particularly LGBT Christians, I’ve learned that many have grown understandably tired of being compared to the infamous woman caught in adultery depicted in John’s gospel – not because they believe themselves to be without sin, but because it’s not their sexuality or gender identity that makes them sinners. (Rather, it’s the stuff we all deal with, like pride, apathy, materialism, selfishness, binge-watching Netflix to the point that we neglect basic grooming and relationships outside the living room, etc.) Furthermore, having their identities, or their most cherished relationships, compared to the devastation of adultery is understandably offensive and hurtful.

A lot of straight, cisgender Christians have this habit of making these comparisons, of putting ourselves in the position of the loving, forgiving Jesus and LGBT people in the position of the beloved sinners. Even more liberal folks like myself like to argue that “being like Jesus” means embracing LGBT people as they are.

And yet…

Focusing so much on “being Jesus” to others means missing the moments when someone is “being Jesus” to you. I remember this about fundamentalism—the pressure and the pride of bringing light to an otherwise dark world. It never occurred to me that other people outside my conservative evangelical tribe had blessings to give me, that I might learn something from them too.

My point is this: LGBT people are not the woman caught in adultery. They are not the leprosy patients Jesus healed or the demon-possessed he rescued. Each is a unique individual whom Jesus loves and ministers to uniquely.

But if I had to make a comparison, I think a more accurate one may be the Good Samaritan. We’ve become so familiar with the story it’s easy to forget that to the religious community from which Jesus emerged, Samaritans were the ones whose supposedly errant theology and questionable ethnic history meant they “needed God.” And yet Jesus makes a Samaritan the hero of his story, the one who embodied what it meant to keep the greatest commandment of loving God and loving others well. Rather than telling a story about a Jewish man who saved a helpless, sinful Samaritan, Jesus told a story about a Samaritan showing grace and love to a stranger. Jesus didn’t condemn the “other” or pity the “other.” He centered the “other.”

I have no idea how this trans woman from the department store, who has unwittingly gone viral, feels about the interaction she had with her old friend. I don’t want to try to speak for her. And I have no judgment for the writer of the piece. But I would suggest that, perhaps, it was the trans woman who showed the forgiveness of Jesus that day, who chose not to cast a stone, who extended unconditional and sacrificial love to her neighbor…even when it was hard, even when it was undeserved.

Time and time again I’ve witnessed this from siblings in Christ who are gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, intersex, queer, or questioning. Despite sometimes vicious and abusive treatment by religious people and institutions, they go on loving—often for the sake of their own survival. With all the fear, misinformation, and hate being spread about trans people in the wake of this North Carolina “bathroom bill,” I can’t help but feel that any trans person who responds graciously to someone who considers their very identity a sin is a) going above and beyond what should be required of them, and b) practicing the very “radical” grace and forgiveness Christians talk about but so seldom practice.

Yesterday on the blog I shared the work of just a few transgender Christians who have been Jesus to me. I hope you will allow yourself to be ministered by them too.

…Cause we’re not always the heroes of the story.”