“We have to suffer as much from the Church as for it.” — Flannery O’Connor
What do you think of when you think of the Church? What expectations do you have? What assumptions do you make? How would you define its purpose?
For many, the Church brings to mind hurt, judgment, fear, and anxiety. The Church has let them down, even caused them pain. Me too.
I understand why so many people have given up on the idea of Church.
In my own journey, I began to experience a deeper sense of connection, meaning, and peace when I examined my expectations and assumptions and came to understand the Church’s purpose more deeply. I began to realize that, at least in my own relationship with the Church, the shift had to begin with me.
I was walking with a friend recently, and we were talking about navigating familial relationships. We have desires for how we want our families to be, and we build expectations and assumptions around those desires. Inevitably, we find ourselves disappointed or frustrated when reality doesn’t align with what we envisioned.
Sometimes, peace begins when we accept our family dynamics for what they are, release the expectations we’ve placed on others, and learn to love each person for who they are. We can then show up in ways that allow greater freedom, authenticity, and grace.
No more performing. Less judgment. Less disappointment. Less frustration.
The same can be true of our relationship with the Church. It is a relationship that requires commitment and cultivation, with room for imperfection and a whole lot of grace.
Many of us want the Church to be convenient and comfortable, to accept us just as we are. But the purpose of the Church is not simply to make us comfortable. It is to make us fruitful, refine us, and form us to become more like Christ.
The Church exists to form missionary disciples who continue Christ’s mission, teach the Truth, dispense grace through the sacraments, model unity, and live as the Body and People of God.
This requires us to hold together tensions such as Truth and Grace, Love and Law, Being and Becoming. We are called to receive God’s love as we are while remaining open to the transformation that love makes possible.
Instead of getting caught up in arguments over this way or that, I wonder what might happen if we focused more intentionally on unity. How might we—and the Church—grow? How might the world be different?
Unity is not uniformity. It is a commitment to something greater than our differences without pretending those differences do not exist.
Unity means belonging without sameness. Pursuing a shared good without pretending we have no differences. Speaking truth with love rather than remaining silent in the face of harm. Taking mutual responsibility rather than expecting one side to do all the work. Working through conflict rather than avoiding every uncomfortable conversation. Respecting human dignity without having to agree with every belief or behavior. Choosing the common good without erasing individuality or legitimate dissent.
Scripture calls us to this kind of unity. Three passages I return to often are:
“Bearing with one another through love.” — Ephesians 4:2–3
Paul connects unity with humility, gentleness, patience, and love. Unity is not simply an ideal; it requires us to practice the virtues that make relationships possible.
Many parts, one body. — 1 Corinthians 12:12–27
Paul reminds us that our differences are not necessarily obstacles to unity. Each person has a distinct role and contribution. We need one another, and no part can claim the others are unnecessary.
“That they may all be one.” — John 17:20–23
Jesus’ prayer for unity reminds us that this is about more than getting along. It is about how we love, how we bear witness to our faith, and what our relationships reveal about the God we profess.
So, how do we make unity practical?
Before we can do the work of unity, we must become people who make unity possible. Unity begins with the person I bring into the room.
Can I be humble when I feel certain? Curious when I feel threatened? Compassionate when I feel wronged? Courageous when silence would be easier?
Here are some qualities we can embody practices we can employ to create unity:
Be humble enough to recognize we don’t have the whole picture.
Our experiences, perspectives, and convictions do not give us a complete understanding of another person or situation. We can be confident in what we believe without assuming we have nothing left to learn.
The posture: I may be missing something. Help me understand what you see that I don’t.
The practice: Choose connection before correction.
Before rushing to change someone’s mind, invest in understanding the person. Ask questions. Listen without interrupting. Reflect on what you heard. Build trust before attempting to resolve differences. Connection does not mean avoiding truth. It means building the relational foundation that allows truth to be spoken and received.
Be curious enough to seek understanding before judgment.
Instead of preparing a rebuttal, ask a question. Instead of assigning motives, seek context. Become interested in the person, not just whether their position aligns with yours.
The posture: I want to understand your experience, even if I ultimately see things differently.
The practice: Replace assumptions with questions.
We often respond not to what someone actually said, but to what we assume they meant. We fill in the gaps with stories that reinforce what we already believe. Pause. Ask what they mean. Clarify what you heard. Give people the opportunity to explain themselves before deciding what their words say about them.
Be secure enough to disagree without demeaning.
Another person’s opposing view does not diminish our worth, and our disagreement does not diminish theirs. We can challenge an idea without attacking a person’s character or dignity.
The posture: We can disagree about what is right without forgetting that we belong to one another.
The practice: Disagree with dignity.
Challenge ideas honestly. Address harmful behavior directly. Set boundaries when necessary. But refuse contempt, ridicule, and the temptation to reduce another person to a caricature. We do not have to agree to treat one another with dignity. And we do not have to sacrifice conviction to practice kindness.
Be compassionate enough to see the person beyond the position.
Every person has a story, experiences, and wounds we may never fully understand. Compassion does not require us to excuse harmful behavior or abandon our convictions. It asks us to remember that a person is always more than the opinion we disagree with.
The posture: There is more to you than the thing I disagree with.
The practice: Create spaces where people belong.
Unity grows through shared experiences, honest conversations, meals, service, and the small moments in which people discover they are seen and valued. We cannot build community if we only spend time with people who think, believe, and live as we do. Be intentional about who is invited, who is heard, who is missing, and who might be waiting for someone to make room.
Be courageous enough to remain in difficult conversations.
Unity is not built by avoiding every uncomfortable subject. Sometimes we must name what is broken, speak a difficult truth, acknowledge harm, or confront injustice. We need the courage to engage honestly without turning every disagreement into a battle to win.
The posture: I am willing to have this conversation because our relationship and our shared future matter.
The practice: Find something meaningful to do together.
Sometimes the path toward unity is not another conversation about our differences. It is a shared commitment that gives us a reason to move forward together. Serve a neighbor. Mentor a young person. Improve a community. Work toward a shared goal. Shared purpose helps us recognize one another’s gifts and discover what we can accomplish together.
Be hopeful enough to believe something better is possible.
Cynicism convinces us that people will never change, our differences are irreconcilable, and our efforts won’t matter. Hope invites us to keep showing up and investing in relationships and communities, even when progress is slow.
The posture: We may not be able to change everything, but we can change what we contribute.
The practice: Take responsibility for your contribution.
We cannot control every conversation, change every mind, or resolve every division. But we can take responsibility for our words, actions, reactions, and the environments we help create. Before forwarding the inflammatory post, repeating the rumor, joining the pile-on, or withdrawing from someone who disagrees with us, ask: Is what I am about to do likely to build understanding or deepen division?
We each have a part to play. Unity is not someone else’s assignment.
It is easy to diagnose division in the world. It is harder to examine the ways we may be participating in it. Before your next difficult conversation, disagreement, or moment of frustration, ask yourself:
- Who must I be? What posture do I need to bring into this moment?
- What must I seek to understand? What might I be missing about this person’s experience or perspective?
- What can I do? What action might build trust, restore connection, or move us toward a shared good?
- What am I contributing? Am I making unity more possible or making division more likely?
We live in a world that rewards outrage, certainty, and the ability to win an argument. We are quick to identify what is wrong with others and slower to consider what we might need to change in ourselves.
But unity will not be built by waiting for someone else to change first.
It will be built in the conversations we choose to have, the assumptions we choose to question, the people we choose to welcome, the dignity we choose to protect, and the responsibility we take for our part in the whole.
It will be built when we learn to disagree without dismissing, speak truth without contempt, and stand firm in our convictions without closing our hearts.
We will not always find common ground. We will not always reach agreement. And we will not always get it right. But we can keep showing up with humility, courage, compassion, and hope.
We can make room for one another. We can seek understanding. We can serve something greater than ourselves.
We may not be able to determine the direction of the entire world, but we can influence the direction of our homes, workplaces, churches, friendships, and communities.
Unity begins with who we choose to be. It grows through what we choose to do. And it becomes possible when each of us recognizes that we have a part to play.
What will become possible because of the way I choose to show up today?
