Reflection 35: Would You Say That to Jesus?

There is a verse in Scripture that tells us the Lord sat with sinners. He ate with them. He walked with them. He chose to be near them. And for that, He was mocked. Accused. Called names. People questioned His character because of who He spent His time with.

I think about that often.

Because if I am honest, I have always been the one who sits with the “unsavory” crowd. I have always been the friend who listens to the messy stories, who doesn’t walk away from the complicated people. Some would probably question that about me. But I know my heart. And I know what I believe.

Working at a college means I encounter all kinds of people. As a devoted Catholic woman, I believe what the Church teaches. I believe we are created intentionally. I believe the Lord does not make mistakes. I do not believe someone is born in the wrong body.

I do believe gender dysphoria is real. I believe it is a deep and painful disconnect between body and mind. And I believe it deserves compassion and real help. But I do not believe affirming that disconnect is the loving solution. As someone who struggles with mental illness myself, I know what it is like to have thoughts that are not aligned with truth. I would never want someone to affirm something in me that was harming me.

But here is where my heart breaks.

One of my students who identifies as transgender came into my office and told me they are afraid to leave their house. Afraid to go to the grocery store. They wear a mask because they do not want to be recognized as someone who is transitioning. They have been harassed. They have been assaulted by a grown man while simply doing their job.

That is not okay.

And I want to be very clear. My heartbreak is not because I want to affirm gender dysphoria. It is because no human being should be afraid to buy groceries. No human being should be physically harmed for existing.

When I have shared some of these experiences with other Catholics, some responses have stunned me. The immediate harshness. The jokes. The dismissiveness. Somewhere along the way we forget: they are people. They are human beings with souls and fears and stories.

They deserve to be loved just as much as a priest deserves to be loved. Just as much as a nun deserves to be loved. Just as much as a child deserves to be loved.

Yes, we all sin. Yes, truth matters. Yes, I align fully with what the Church teaches. But our call is not to degrade. It is not to humiliate. It is not to wound.

We do not get to treat someone as less than because we believe they are wrong.

There are plenty of sins our culture normalizes. We do not stand outside bars hurling insults at those who drink too much. We do not follow young women around with cruelty because of how they dress. Are those things aligned with holiness? Not always. But we recognize that cruelty does not convert hearts.

So why is it acceptable in some circles to mock, harass, or threaten those struggling with gender dysphoria?

We are called to lead people to Christ. And you will never lead someone to Christ by first convincing them they are unworthy of dignity.

One of my favorite verses says, “What you did for the least of these, you did for me.” Would you say those harsh words to Jesus? Would you use that condescending tone toward Him? Would you mock Him for struggling with sin?

I would not.

And I cannot reconcile loving Christ while treating another human being with malice.

Do I believe they are making a mistake by altering their bodies? Yes. Do I believe affirming gender dysphoria is the answer? No. But I also believe hatred is not the answer.

The amount of times this student has come into my office and chosen to talk to me, out of everyone else, tells me something. They feel safe. They feel heard. Not affirmed in every belief. But seen. Treated as a human being.

And I believe that matters.

We have enough people shouting about fire and brimstone. We have enough people declaring who is going to hell. I genuinely wonder — how has that approach worked?

Christ met people where they were. And then He invited them higher.

If there is hatred in our approach, it is not His will.

I will never understand choosing cruelty when love is available. Especially when this generation has been shaped by a culture that told them this was normal, good, even necessary. If we believe they are confused, then our response should not be attack. It should be compassion anchored in truth.

Truth without love is brutality.

Love without truth is sentimentality.

But Christ calls us to both.

And I would rather be accused of sitting with sinners than be found standing in judgment without mercy.