In every corner of our country, people are anxious and angry. They feel their values are no longer respected — or worse, what they believe is ridiculed and rejected. Rich and poor, young and old, conservatives and liberals, citizens and immigrants and all ethnicities — virtually all of us feel threatened by powerful forces causing our culture to drift away from what we hold dear.

In reaction to the drift, people often grasp for extreme, polarized views that promise clarity and security. When they hear of shootings, some demand stricter gun control, but others want to arm more people for self-defense. When they see news reports of the refugee crisis in the Middle East and Europe, some want to open our country to care for the displaced, but others insist on tighter restrictions to keep people out. When they hear the Supreme Court has legalized gay marriage, some say it was inevitable, but others are outraged and worry about the impact on the full range of religious liberties.

The Blink of an Eye
The drift in our culture has occurred in the relative blink of an eye. In New Rules: Searching for Fulfillment in a World Turned Upside Down, social scientist Daniel Yankelovich observes how our society moved from self-sacrifice before and during World War II to self-indulgence in the decades that followed. Prosperity — and advertisements that promoted the vast new array of products and services people expected — promised security, excitement, beauty, control, popularity and an easy life. Over-promising became normal, and most people believed every word.

However, with the promises of the good life came alarming developments. In the 1950s, students learned to hide under their desks in the event of a nuclear attack. We endured the assassinations of President Kennedy, Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert Kennedy, and we wondered whether our world was coming apart. Abortion became legal in 1973; leaders removed prayer from schools and cities exploded in riots over civil rights. A sexual revolution swept through America and the western world, while the Vietnam War further divided the nation. Watergate shattered our trust in the government. The economy experienced swings of prosperity and collapse. And the events of 9/11 changed the way we see the world and the way the world sees us.

In recent years, political leaders have seemed angrier and more defiant but less effective. Where society once expected leaders to engage in civil discourse and work toward reasonable solutions through dialogue, people increasingly view such actions as evidence of a tragic character flaw. As Americans, we feel out of control. As Christians, we look too often to political leaders rather than God for answers.

Four Responses
Richard Niebuhr observes in Christ and Culture that people witnessing these cultural changes may respond in one of four ways: accommodating, opposing, withdrawing or engaging.

1. Some accommodate change. For some people, tolerance is the highest virtue. They “go along to get along,” and they accept every lifestyle and belief as equally valid. Accommodators look at the shift in attitudes toward gay marriage (or guns, immigration, the use of force by police or any other important cultural change), and they say, “Live and let live. It’s not right to judge anyone! We need to keep up with the culture so we’re not left behind. We want to be relevant, don’t we?”

2. Some fiercely oppose change. The second group has the opposite reaction. They see proponents of another viewpoint as enemies they must defeat, not reasonable people with a different opinion. They see even small shifts in society as potential major losses. These people oppose change because they are terrified of losing their way of life. They don’t read articles or listen to arguments from the other side; they only listen to friends or commentators who reinforce their fears and enflame their anger.

3. Some withdraw to protect themselves. Big problems overwhelm this group, and they give up. They say, “What’s the use? My voice means nothing in large debates. Those issues are too complex. I don’t want to get in the line of fire between people who are so angry!”

If someone corners them on an opinion, they say, “Oh, I don’t know. That’s beyond me.”

Many of them don’t watch the news because, they’ve concluded, “It’s too depressing.”

These three reactions to cultural drift may be understandable, but they undermine our identity as strong, compassionate, wise children of God. Accommodating change may mean compromising truth. Overvaluing tolerance can lead to complacency toward sin. Opposing change at any cost may mean withholding grace, love and mercy from those who disagree. And Christians who withdraw too quickly from debate can lose God-given opportunities to represent Him in a lost and confused world.

However, there is a fourth way to respond to cultural issues.

4. Some engage change with a Christlike blend of truth, grace and purpose. Jesus calls us to be in the world but “not of the world” (John 17:16) and to be “salt” and “light” to the people around us (Matthew 5:13–16). With this identity and perspective, we interact with people with truth and grace — not affirming their sins to appear more open-minded, not harshly condemning them, and not withdrawing from them. Instead, we engage them by following the example of Jesus. He moved toward the outcasts and the marginalized. He felt genuine sorrow when people turned from truth. He stood up against injustice, and He boldly faced the religious leaders who despised Him for loving the unlovely.

Jesus lived a simple, humble life, but scarcity didn’t threaten Him. He trusted His Father.

True North
Every person intuitively asks, “What is my life about? What makes life worth living? What is my ultimate purpose?”

Many in our culture — and even in our churches — invest their hearts, time, creativity and money in pursuit of prestige, pleasure, popularity, power and possessions. These things promise to fill the emptiness in our hearts, but they inevitably fail. Author Rick Warren in The Purpose Driven Life states, “You were made by God and for God, and until you understand that, life will never make sense.”.

God shouts to us through His Word, and He whispers to us through the Spirit to assure us that Jesus paid the ultimate price to rescue us from sin and adopt us into God’s family. We belong to Him! As our love for God deepens, we delight in what gives Him delight, we grieve over the things that grieve Him and we are outraged at the injustices that harm the people God loves. Hearing God’s voice gives us certainty, clarity and compassion. We need to hear Him call our names.

 Hearing God’s voice gives us certainty, clarity and compassion. We need to hear Him call our names.

I grew up in poverty in Chicago’s Humboldt Park. My father left home when I was a young boy, leaving my mother to find work to provide for my brothers and me. Two of my older brothers soon joined local gangs. I knew my mother worried about them, and I wanted to support her in every possible way. We stayed in an apartment until my mother couldn’t pay the rent. To stay off the streets, we often lived with other family members. I attended five different elementary schools. I was often alone, wandering the neighborhoods. Poverty, crime, gangs and police crackdowns were the background noise of my life. When I was 12, the Hispanic community rioted against the Chicago police. By the third day, the governor called the National Guard to restore order.

Two years later, I participated in a summer youth program to clean up our part of the city. There, I met some adults and kids who prayed with deep emotion. I was intrigued. I’d never seen anything like this. The supervisor told me about Jesus, and I trusted Christ as my Savior. I wanted to soak up every moment of my new relationship with God and these friends. My thirst for love was profound. I couldn’t get enough!

A few months later, I attended a youth convention. One night at the altar, a woman came up and touched me on the shoulder. She prayed for me, and then she spoke God’s words directly to me: “I have called you to be a great leader. Stay on my path. I will bless those who bless you, and I will curse those who curse you.”

I thought her expression was nice, but I didn’t realize what it meant. A few minutes later, I got on an elevator to go to my room. As the door closed, a man got in. He looked at me and said, “Have you not heard? I have called you to be a great leader. Stay on my path. I will bless those who bless you, and I will curse those who curse you.”

A coincidence? Not a chance. God was speaking through those two people to give me a clear direction for the rest of my life. No matter what I’ve encountered in school, as a young adult or as a leader, I have always looked back and known that God called my name. He called me to be a leader — not to go along to avoid conflict, not to rage against people who don’t agree with me and not to cower in fear — but to boldly and compassionately engage people with the heart of Jesus.

Stay on Track
For centuries the Church had a way to stay on track with God: repentance. Today, many people don’t want to talk about sin or the need for forgiveness. They prefer to talk about “mistakes,” or “weaknesses” or “bad decisions.” They excuse their moral failures or blame others.

We need to understand the nature and consequences of sin. Sin is any violation of God’s peace and promises, any attack on God’s good purposes for any person. Does God hate sin? Yes, but not because He delights in blasting people who sin. God hates sin because it disrupts His beautiful plans for His people. If we redefine sin as only weaknesses and mistakes, we don’t see the need for God’s cleansing flood. But a superficial understanding of sin doesn’t let us off the hook emotionally and spiritually. Instinctively, we know something is wrong. We live with a vague sense of shame that we aren’t what we should be, but we can’t do anything about it.

Our definition of sin and our concept of God’s grace shape our response when God’s Spirit whispers that we need to repent. Paul describes two different kinds of repentance in 2 Corinthians 7:8–11. When Paul pointed out sin in the Corinthians’ lives in an earlier letter, he wasn’t thrilled to condemn them. He loved them and longed for them to walk with God. Sin, he knew, hurt them and blocked their experience of God’s presence and purpose. He wasn’t happy his letter produced sorrow, but he was pleased that their sorrow led them to repentance. Paul contrasts “godly sorrow” and “worldly sorrow”: One results in life, joy, love and power, but the other produces a form of emotional and spiritual death.

Godly sorrow is the gateway to refreshment in the Spirit, a renewed appreciation that God is our loving Father who wants the best for us. When we grasp this truth, we welcome the Spirit’s whisper to repent, and we gladly respond so we can experience the forgiveness Christ has already bought for us. A fresh infusion of forgiveness inspires our hearts and propels us to engage with the people around us. This kind of repentance is attractive, powerful and refreshing, and it can happen often in the lives of believers. This kind of sorrow doesn’t minimize sin; we are fully aware that our sins required Jesus’ death to pay for them. But it also doesn’t minimize grace; Jesus willingly went to the cross because He loves us.

How do we know whether our confession and repentance are “godly sorrow” or “worldly sorrow”? It’s easy. Does admitting sin make us feel small and ashamed? Does it make us want to hide from God and lie to those around us? Or does it produce a fresh wave of God’s grace that brings us both relief and gratitude? If it’s not relief and gratitude, it’s not God’s grace.

Repentance and Engagement
True repentance produces humility — a deep reverence for God, a heightened appreciation for God’s grace and the ability to love and forgive other sinners. A heart of godly sorrow keeps our relationship with God fresh and alive and reminds us of our calling to be fully His every moment of every day. It’s easy to ignore people in need and criticize those who hold opposing views. Repentance helps us experience forgiveness and grace so we can treat people the way Jesus did. We must fill the well before we can draw from it. We can love the unlovely only to the extent we’ve experienced the unconditional love of God.

We can love the unlovely only to the extent we’ve experienced the unconditional love of God.

We can develop a three-fold strategy to engage people in our communities. First, we can take the initiative to personally connect with people who are different from us and who disagree with our positions. Second, we can challenge people in our inner circle — our families, small groups and classes — to befriend and serve people who aren’t like them. Third, we can mobilize our churches to get involved in the fabric of our communities and care for people of different lifestyles and faiths, not with an air of superiority, but loving them like Jesus loves.

When we talk with those who disagree with us, we should listen to their position. When we don’t listen, we create two problems: We make assumptions, often wrong ones, about the other position, and we communicate that we don’t care enough to value the other person’s perspective. If we don’t listen, we lose the opportunity to connect with the person, no matter how right we believe our cause might be.

A few years ago, a city alderman was considering retiring from his position. As was customary, the alderman was supposed to appoint his successor. My name came up, and the city council asked members of the community to voice their opinions about my qualifications and character. Members of the LGBT community (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender) had strenuous objections, so I offered to meet with them. I hosted about 25 members of their group at a restaurant. I went alone because I didn’t want them to feel threatened in any way.

I briefly introduced myself and invited them to ask questions. For the next hour, they asked dozens of questions about my views, our church and me. One person asked if we would revise our church website to say that we support the LGBT community, replacing our stated belief that God’s design for marriage is between a man and a woman. I wasn’t defensive or angry. I simply told them, “No, we won’t do that. We won’t change our beliefs so I can become an alderman.”

At the end of the hour, I had listened carefully to their points of view, and I stated mine without raising my voice or arguing. But there was no question where I stood on the issues they felt strongly about. Several of them were obviously angry at my responses. One man in particular was loud, demanding and critical of every answer I gave. At the end of our time, I said, “You say you stand for inclusion and tolerance, but it appears you’re intolerant of my faith. That seems inconsistent.”

I wasn’t asking for a response or provoking an argument. I was simply stating an observation, and I hoped at least some of those present would understand.

At the end of the meeting, a lady stood up and said, “I don’t know the reverend very well, but I trust him, and I plan to vote for him.”

But for the first time in Mayor Daley’s tenure, he didn’t appoint the person nominated for the post of alderman. I didn’t get the position, but that’s not the end of the story.

Three years later, my assistant told me a man named Felix wanted to see me. I didn’t recognize his name, but I was glad to meet him. It turned out I had met him before — at the meeting with the LGBT community. It was the man who had been so angry and defiant, although now his demeanor was different. He smiled and said, “Pastor Choco, you may not remember me. I’m leaving the city of Chicago, but before I go, I wanted to see you. I’ve trusted Jesus Christ as my Savior, and I wanted you to know that God has done great things in my life. God told me that before I leave, I need to make things right with you.”

God calls us to be salt in a decaying world and light in spiritual darkness.

He began crying as he spoke. He paused for a second, and then he asked, “Would you forgive me for being so obnoxious to you? I said things about you and your church that weren’t true.”

I hugged him and said, “Brother, I forgave you years ago, and I’m thrilled to hear that you’ve come to know Jesus! I’m so happy to hear about your journey!”

Felix is still an activist, but now he’s an activist for Jesus. He writes a blog about the grace and power of God to transform lives. He gives all the glory to God, and he generously mentions that I was kind to him when he was angry with me. Felix’s sister is now visiting our church.

Those aren’t the only lives God touched as a result of that meeting. The lady who had been president of the LGBT organization is now on our missions team and is a Life Group coach. She is living a life of abstinence, walking with God in power and love.

We love sinners because we’re sinners and Jesus loves us. We have every right to speak the truth, but if we grasp God’s grace at all, we won’t despise sinners and blast them with the truth. Rather, our hearts will break because of sin — both our sin and theirs. When I met with those members of the LGBT community, I didn’t demand they agree with me. I didn’t condemn them or accuse them. I wanted to represent Christ, and I thought about how He related to those who opposed Him. He was clear in His message to sinners, but they knew He loved them. That was my goal. I listened, and I told them what I believed. I was secure in my identity and my message, so I had no need to be defensive in any way. When the meeting was over, I had no guarantee God would use it to change a heart or two in the group, but that’s what He did.

God calls us to be salt in a decaying world and light in spiritual darkness. If we’re cowards — not salty and hiding our lights — we won’t impact others for Christ. If we’re obnoxious, demanding that people agree with us, we’ll certainly have an impact, but not the kind God wants us to have. To be salt and light, we must have equally radical commitments to love and truth, not one or the other. We love people dearly, listen intently and patiently get to know them, but we’re not afraid to talk about Jesus and His Word.

When we proclaim the truth in love, many will applaud, some will believe and others will persecute us. Don’t invite persecution by being an angry, defiant, demanding religious Pharisee. But if you face persecution for loving people the way Jesus loved and speaking the truth the way He spoke it, you’re in good company.

Wilfredo “Choco” De Jesús is senior pastor of New Life Covenant Church in Chicago, the largest Assemblies of God congregation in the United States. He is the founder and executive director of New Life Family Services, a nonprofit agency that operates a homeless shelter for women with children. In 2013, De Jesús was named one of TIME magazine’s “100 Most Influential People” in the world, an award that recognized his leadership in evangelical and Latino communities. His latest book, Stay the Course: Finding Hope in a Drifting Culture, is available from My Healthy Church (myhealthychurch.com) or wherever Christian books are sold. This article is adapted from Stay the Course and was originally published in our print edition.