Note: this essay’s written specifically for evangelicals, but Latter-day Saints are welcomed to read over our shoulders.
When I tell people I spend time in interfaith dialogue with Latter-day Saints, I get puzzled looks.
“Why dialogue?” they ask. “Aren’t there better ways to engage Mormonism?”
Perhaps.
But dialogue does something unique.
It forces me to slow down, to listen well, and to love my neighbor as myself. It makes me “quick to hear, slow to speak,” and if I’m honest, “slow to anger” (Jas 1:19).
After all, not only is it ‘hard to hate up close’ (as a friend likes to remind me) it’s also really hard to love someone well from a distance, without really knowing them. Harder still to love someone rightly.
That’s where a concept I’ve been working on—orthogapy—comes in.
Let me explain.
What Is Orthogapy?
If orthodoxy is ‘right belief,’ and orthopraxy is ‘right practice,’ then orthogapy is right and rightly ordered love. From the Greek orthos (right) and agape (love), orthogapy refers to the Spirit-empowered shaping of the heart to prize what God prizes—to love as God loves.
Not just to believe or do what is right—but to love what is right, because it is supremely lovely.
If that sounds a little poetic, good. It should.
But orthogapy is more than a sentiment. It’s a way of seeing. A lens for life and a ground for dialogue.
It doesn’t soften doctrine. It roots doctrine in desire.
Traherne’s Key: Prizing What God Prizes
I was recently attuned to Thomas Traherne, the 17th century Anglican poet and theologian for whom C.S. Lewis held great admiration. He called Traherene’s Centuries of Meditations “almost the most beautiful book [in] English,” a work that challenges the reader to joyfully consider what the world looks like according to God.
Traherne wrote that we are most like God when we “prize all things according to their value,” for “God doth prize all things rightly, which is a Key that opens into the very thoughts of His bosom.”
In other words, we reflect God most clearly when we learn to love what He loves, in the right way and for the right reasons, because valuing things as God does is like holding a key that unlocks His very heart.
So, Traherne roots spirituality in value alignment: we know God by valuing what He values.
But that got me thinking: Does love stop at value? Or does it delight in loveliness?
We love not just because something is worthy, but because it’s beautiful in God’s eyes.
That’s why I believe interfaith dialogue must begin not with doctrine, or practice, or systems, but with love.
Because love reveals what we prize.
What Do You Love?
Now, I know how that sounds—squishy.
For some, starting with love feels too soft, too ecumenical. Like I’m dodging doctrine or flattening differences in the name of Kumbaya.
But that’s not it.
The moment we start talking about what we love, we’re already talking about what we believe and how we live. It’s nearly impossible to name our deepest loves without also naming the truths that shape them and the habits that express them.
It’s interesting to me that Jesus liked to ask, “What do you want?” (see Matt. 20:21, 31; Mark 10:36, 51; Luke 18:41). That question cuts straight to our loves. To ask about someone’s wants is to ask about what they love, because what we want is what we treasure. “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matt. 6:21).
Wants unveil the loves that drive us.
So, for example, when a Latter-day Saint tells me they love the temple, they’re also revealing what they believe about religious space, priesthood, and eternity. When I say I love sola fide, I’m not just being emotional. I’m confessing something about sin, atonement, and grace.
Now, clarity is charity in the interfaith space. Let me be clear: I believe the gospel is the good news that the triune God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—created us to love, know, and glorify Him. Though we sin and deserve judgment, the Father sent His Son to save the world, Jesus Christ—truly God and truly man—who lived without sin, died for us on the cross, and rose in victory. He now reigns as Lord, our final Prophet, our true High Priest, offering eternal life by grace alone through faith alone in Him alone. This gospel is revealed in the inspired and fixed canon of the Holy Bible. All who are saved pursue holiness and faithful obedience to and for and by God as His saints in advance of dwelling forever with the Father, Son, and Spirit to the glory of God alone.
That message isn’t sidelined by love. It’s embodied in it.
So no, doctrine and practice don’t disappear when we begin with love. They show up honestly. And not as talking points, but as treasured convictions.
Orthogapy doesn’t replace orthodoxy or orthopraxy. It holds them together. It reminds us that belief and behavior matter most when they grow from love rightly ordered—love aimed at the glory of God and the good of our neighbor.
Ironically, the cliché “singing Kumbaya” comes from an African American spiritual that means “come by here, Lord.” A prayer for God’s nearness.
And that’s exactly what orthogapy is doing.
It’s not sentimental fluff. It’s a Spirit-shaped desire for God to come near, to dwell among hearts reordered by love.
A prayer to ask God to ‘get in the middle’ of the conversation and do what He does best: heart renewal.
What It Looks Like
So, what does orthogapy in dialogue look like exactly?
It looks like listening without angling. You’re not waiting to correct, but to understand and then speak with care.
“If one gives an answer before he hears, it is his folly and shame” (Proverbs 18:13). Orthogapy resists that folly. It insists that understanding must come before speaking. Not because truth doesn’t matter, but because people do. It requires me to sit in the discomfort of not being in control.
It’s the humility of holding our convictions in open hands, not clenched fists.
So, orthogapy in dialogue sounds like this:
“What do you love most about God?”
“What do you love about your family?”
“Are there specific Bible verses you love to return to?”
“Why do you think God’s love is expressed through the cross?”
“What does your Church teach you about loving your neighbors?”
Sometimes you hear something you deeply disagree with. That’s okay. You don’t abandon truth to make room for love. But love disarms truth from being weaponized. “Walk in wisdom toward outsiders,” says Paul, and “let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt” (Colossians 4:5–6). Grace and truth are not rivals. They’re traveling companions.
Orthogapy is the discipline of speaking truth in love (see Eph. 4:15)—not just speaking lovingly, but loving truly.
It also means you’re willing to be moved. Not persuaded out of your convictions, but touched by someone else’s sincerity. I’ve sat with Latter-day Saints who’ve told me about their loves with a quiver in their voice. In that moment, my job wasn’t to shift the conversation toward critique, but to cherish what I could and grieve what I couldn’t.
Challenge has its place, but it isn’t the starting point. Rather than aiming to win a point, the goal is to prompt contemplation—gentle, honest reflection that, by God’s grace, draws hearts toward the beauty and sufficiency of Christ.
And if that doesn’t happen? That’s okay, too. Faithfulness is measured less by persuasion than by presence.
Orthogapy gives us a framework for honesty and compassion. It keeps us from caricatures and clichés. It reminds us that the Latter-day Saint across the table is not an ideology to deconstruct, but a person to love.
And if we believe what we say we believe—that God is love, that Jesus died for all sinners, that the Spirit can renew hearts—then we can sit down at the table confident, not anxious.
Gracious, not guarded.
Orthogapy doesn’t dilute theological clarity. It deepens it. Because what you love ultimately shapes what you believe and do.
📘 Coming Soon: 40 Questions About Mormonism
If you’ve appreciated this reflection, you’ll love my forthcoming book, 40 Questions About Mormonism (Kregel Academic, this coming winter). It’s written for everyday Christians who want clear, charitable, and biblically faithful answers to the most common questions about the Latter-day Saint faith.