Christians love talking about community. We just don’t always know how to survive it.
Spend enough time in a church small group and you’ll eventually witness the slow unraveling of an unspoken tension: the passive-aggressive prayer requests, the theological “clarifications,” the awkward side-eyes when someone brings up politics. We claim to be people of peace, but when conflict inevitably hits, many of us flinch, flee or explode.
That’s a problem—not just socially but spiritually. Christianity is built on the story of reconciliation. The entire Gospel centers around repairing the most important relationship we could ever break.
So it’s ironic how ill-equipped many believers are to handle even minor interpersonal breakdowns. Some of us were taught that addressing tension is inherently unkind. Others grew up in church cultures that equated confrontation with confrontation for Jesus, which usually meant someone was about to get spiritually steamrolled.
Conflict itself isn’t a sin. It’s not even a red flag. The issue is whether we’ve developed the skills to engage disagreement in a way that actually reflects Christ—who, it turns out, was incredibly clear, incredibly kind and never once subtweeted anyone.
The Bible isn’t silent on this. Jesus laid out a whole framework in Matthew 18 that we like to quote but rarely follow. “If your brother or sister sins, go and point out their fault, just between the two of you.” That’s the first step—go to them. Not your group chat, not your pastor, not your anonymous Instagram story. Them. The person.
If that doesn’t work, Jesus says to bring one or two others along—not to gang up but to witness the conversation. Still doesn’t work? That’s when church leadership gets involved. It’s a clear, respectful process that prioritizes restoration over reputation, listening over lashing out. But it only works if people are willing to actually have hard conversations. And most of us would rather do almost anything else.
Ken Sande, founder of Peacemaker Ministries and author of The Peacemaker, has worked for decades helping churches and Christians learn how to navigate conflict without tearing each other apart.
“Relational wisdom is more proactive and preventive, while peacemaking is more reactive,” he said. “Conflict occurs when people fly outside the circle of relational wisdom. Peacemaking is how we pull people back in.”
If that sounds abstract, it’s not. It just means most fights aren’t about the facts. They’re about fear, insecurity, control or misunderstanding. And without the emotional maturity to recognize those dynamics in ourselves, we’re going to keep crashing into each other.
That’s where tools like the REACH Forgiveness model come in. Developed by Dr. Everett Worthington, a Christian psychologist and expert on reconciliation, it outlines a five-step process to forgive someone fully—whether or not they ever apologize. REACH stands for
- recall the hurt
- empathize with the offender
- altruistic gift of forgiveness
- commit to forgive and
- hold onto forgiveness.
Forgiveness isn’t the same as pretending nothing happened. It’s a choice, sometimes daily, to release bitterness and move toward healing. That doesn’t mean avoiding boundaries or accountability. It just means refusing to stay stuck in resentment when Christ already modeled a better way.
David Augsburger, a Mennonite counselor and theologian, once wrote, “Being heard is so close to being loved that for the average person, they are almost indistinguishable.” It’s a line that should be plastered in every church staff meeting, small group curriculum and marriage conference. Because real conflict resolution isn’t about proving a point. It’s about making space for the other person to be seen and understood—without giving up truth in the process.
If this sounds hard, that’s because it is. Choosing clarity over comfort takes work. Listening without defensiveness takes work. Asking for forgiveness when you were wrong, even if you had good intentions? Work. But this is the kind of spiritual maturity that actually makes faith visible. It’s the kind of humility that heals relationships. It’s the kind of grace that stops the cycle of church trauma before it gets passed down to the next generation.
So maybe the next time someone offends you, you don’t just let it simmer. You don’t ghost them, blast them or weaponize Bible verses in a comment thread. You go to them, like Jesus said. You listen. You stay kind. You try to repair.
Because conflict will come. That’s guaranteed. What we do with it is what makes us different.
