I read something the other day by Ray Stedman that honestly made me pause mid-sip of my coffee. He said we forget that the church is a body. Not an institution. Not a corporation. Not a well-run business with policies and procedures and boardroom meetings. A body. And suddenly… it hit me. Because if we are a body, then you and I are not employees, we are cells.

Now just think about that for a second. Not all cells do the same thing, right? Some carry oxygen, some fight infection, some heal wounds, and some simply hold things together so everything else doesn’t fall apart. But now shift that picture for a moment and see it through the lens of war. Imagine your body as an army not scattered or confused, but trained, positioned, and purposeful. Every part has a role. Every movement is intentional. Every function is connected. And then imagine that army turning on itself. The medics refuse to treat the wounded. The front line argues with command. Communication breaks down in the middle of battle. Soldiers are busy debating strategy while the enemy advances.

You wouldn’t call that strength. You would call that defeat. So why… why does it look so familiar? Why are we fighting within when there is already a war around us? Because there is a battle, that much is true. But somewhere along the way, we started firing at each other. We fight about color, money, schools, politics, churches, denominations, and opinions. And now even war itself becomes something that divides us. If we had to list it all, we would need a second blog, maybe even a third, because the list just keeps growing.

Let’s be honest for a moment. Some people respond from fear, others from conviction. Some from pain, others from principle. Some have seen things that shaped their decisions, others have questioned everything before choosing their path. Different perspectives, but the same humanity. And yet, while we are busy debating everything happening out there, what is happening to the unity in here?

Because the Word is clear. “Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace” ( Eph 4:3). Not create unity, keep it. Which means it was already given. It was entrusted to us. But somewhere along the way, we stopped protecting unity and started protecting opinions. And now the body is distracted, wounded, and divided, while the real enemy doesn’t even have to try that hard anymore. A divided army doesn’t need to be defeated, it defeats itself.

And then I hear the voice of Jesus cutting through all the noise, the same way He looked at Simon Peter after all his failure, not his success, and asked him one simple question: “Do you love Me?” (John 21:17). Not “Were you right?” Not “Did you take the correct position?” Not “Did you win the argument?” Just… “Do you love Me?” Because everything flows from there. “Love Me… and feed My sheep.” Not fight them. Not divide them. Not label them. Feed them.

And oh, how we’ve complicated this. We’ve turned faith into debates, love into conditions, and grace into checklists. But Jesus keeps bringing it back again and again to the simplest and most confronting truth: love Me. Love Me when you’re strong and when you’re breaking. Love Me when you’re certain and when you’re full of questions. Love Me with your past, your imperfections, and even your repeated failures.

Because here is the Gospel we don’t say loudly enough: you are not held together by being right, you are held together by His love. “You are Mine” (Isa 43:1). Not sometimes. Not when you agree with everyone. Not when you’ve figured it all out. Always. Even when you see things differently, even when you wrestle, even when you fail, you belong.

And from that place, from being His, comes everything else. The good works, the transformation, the healing, the strength to stand in a world at war without becoming part of the war within. So maybe, just maybe, if we remembered that we are a body and not a battlefield, we would stop turning on each other and start standing together. Because a healthy body doesn’t compete, and an aligned army doesn’t divide, it moves as one.

And in a world that feels like it’s tearing itself apart, maybe the greatest witness we could offer is not proving a point, but protecting unity.

Love,
V.L.