If you’ve spent any time in church, you’ve probably heard the phrase “love the sinner, hate the sin.” It’s a tidy little saying. The problem is, I’m not sure it’s entirely biblical—at least not in the way we often use it.
Before Christ, my nature was so corrupted by sin that you couldn’t separate the sin from me. The two were tangled together. The only thing that splits them apart is Jesus. He is the one who can separate self from sin—cleanse it, renew it, remake it.
That’s where things get uncomfortable. Because if Jesus came to separate, then He also came to divide.
The Sword We Didn’t Sign Up For
We love the Christmas version of Jesus: peace on earth, goodwill to men. But the same Jesus said something that sounds like the opposite:
“Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword.” — Matthew 10:34
He wasn’t talking about a literal sword. He was talking about truth so sharp, so revealing, that it forces a decision. It turns a man against his father, a daughter against her mother—not because Jesus wants family conflict, but because truth puts people on different sides.
Some of you have experienced this. You’ve had a conversation with a loved one about something they believe or a way they’re living, and suddenly the divide became crystal clear. You love them. You want the best for them. But you also can’t pretend that everything is fine when it’s not.
That tension is exactly what Jesus was preparing us for. He came to call everyone to repentance—to change their mind and turn around. But not everyone will. And when truth enters a room, it doesn’t make everyone feel warm and fuzzy. Sometimes it makes people angry.
Why We Stay Quiet
Let’s be honest: most of us don’t like conflict. We don’t want to be seen as judgmental. We don’t want to impose on people. We’ve internalized the idea that pointing out something wrong is automatically unloving.
But here’s what I’ve noticed: when we stay quiet about things that matter, we’re not being loving. We’re being comfortable.
Silence is agreement. If you watch someone walk toward a cliff and say nothing, you’re not loving them—you’re letting them fall.
We’ve been taught that everything is permissible under grace, so we tolerate things that are actively harming people. But Paul’s point was that just because something is permissible doesn’t mean it’s beneficial. And the question we have to ask ourselves is: should we allow it?
The answer, according to Scripture, is no.
The Difference Between Being Judgmental and Speaking Truth
Someone will inevitably say, “Aren’t we not supposed to judge?”
Jesus did say, “Do not judge, or you too will be judged.” But He wasn’t telling us to abandon discernment. He was warning us to know what evil is before we judge it—and to judge with love, not self-righteousness.
You can’t call something evil if you don’t have a standard. And we do have one: the Word of God. It’s not my opinion that matters. It’s not my feelings today versus my feelings tomorrow. The Bible is the universal truth that doesn’t shift with culture.
We live in a time where it’s increasingly hard to tell what’s real. AI videos, social media algorithms, shifting cultural narratives—it’s designed to confuse. But Hebrews 4:12 says the Word of God is alive and active, sharper than any double-edged sword. It penetrates. It divides soul and spirit. It judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.
So when I speak about something being wrong, I’m not giving my opinion. I’m holding up the standard. And that changes everything.
What Evil Actually Does
We need to be clear about why evil matters. Evil doesn’t bring life—it takes it. It promises freedom but delivers chains. It promises fulfillment but leaves you emptier than before.
Think about your appendix. If it’s infected, you don’t leave it in because it’s part of your body. You cut it out. You remove it so it doesn’t kill you.
But in the spiritual life, we often do the opposite. We accommodate things that are slowly poisoning us because it’s uncomfortable to deal with them.
Let me be specific. Statistics say that around 70% of men in church settings are looking at pornography. It’s an infection. It’s killing marriages, killing intimacy, killing the ability to love well. And we treat it like it’s just a habit—something we’ll deal with later.
Or consider the cultural pressure on women to step into roles that God never designed them to carry. That’s not a knock on women; it’s a call for men to step up into their God-given responsibility as husbands and fathers. When one person carries what they were never meant to carry, everyone suffers.
These aren’t comfortable topics. But if we won’t call them what they are, we’re not loving people—we’re leaving them in the infection.
How to Love Someone Without Making Peace with Evil
This is the question that keeps us stuck: How do I love someone while not agreeing with what they’re doing?
The answer is simple, though not easy: you let the Word do the judging, and you speak it in love.
Your job isn’t to condemn. Your job is to raise an alarm. To say, “This is what God says, and He says it because He loves you.” If someone rejects it, that’s between them and God. But at least they’ve heard the truth.
Is it unloving to identify cancer and offer a treatment? That’s the most loving thing you can do.
Is it unloving to protect life and offer a way out? No. That’s what love actually looks like.
The Real Battle
Ephesians 6 reminds us that our struggle isn’t against flesh and blood. It’s against spiritual forces—rulers, authorities, powers of this dark world. That means the person in front of you isn’t the enemy. The thing that’s corrupted them is.
And the weapons we fight with aren’t weapons of the world. We don’t match anger with anger, insults with insults. Instead, we demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God. We take every thought captive and make it obedient to Christ.
That happens through prayer. Through speaking truth. Through refusing to be silent.
Martin Luther King Jr. said it well: “He who passively accepts evil is as much involved in it as he who helps perpetrate it.”
A Question to Sit With
If you’re still wrestling with this, let me leave you with one question:
Is it unloving to identify cancer and offer a cure?
If your answer is no—and it should be—then you understand why we can’t stay quiet. Not because we enjoy confrontation. Not because we think we’re better than anyone else. But because we’ve been given something that saves, and the people around us are dying without it.
You were made for more than just singing songs and waiting for heaven. You were made to be salt and light—to preserve, to illuminate, to push back the darkness.
Truth is a weapon. Used in love, it defends those who are trapped. And when we wield it—with humility, with grace, with courage—we get to be part of the most loving thing there is: watching someone walk from death into life.
If you’ve been silent because you didn’t know what to say, start with the Word. Let it be your standard. Let it give you the words.
And then—love people enough to speak them.