The Church Was Never as United as We Imagine
What Acts reveals about tribalism, belonging, and the kind of unity Jesus actually prayed for
Good morning friends,
Today’s reflection grew out of thinking about how easily human beings divide themselves, even inside communities built around grace, reconciliation, and shared faith.
Thank you, as always, for being here.
There is something deeply comforting about imagining the early church as a kind of golden age.
A community untouched by politics, division, ego, or rivalry. A people so transformed by Jesus that conflict simply dissolved in the light of the resurrection. I have at times reflected on this as some kind of utopia.
But the truth is that the New Testament presents a far more honest story.
The first major fracture in the church was not caused by heresy or doctrine. It did not begin with arguments about theology or competing interpretations of Scripture.
It began with food.
In Acts 6, Greek-speaking widows began to complain that they were being overlooked in the daily distribution, while Aramaic-speaking widows were properly cared for. On the surface, it sounds like administration. A logistical problem inside a rapidly growing movement.
Yet beneath the practical issue sat something much older and far more familiar.
Language.
Culture.
Identity.
Two groups occupied the same spiritual community while experiencing it very differently.
Soon, it was no longer simply widows receiving food.
It was our widows and their widows.
— • —
That instinct still feels painfully recognisable because tribalism is not uniquely religious behaviour. It is profoundly human behaviour.
We gather around familiarity almost automatically. Shared culture reduces friction. Shared assumptions create comfort. Shared language makes us feel understood.
You can see it everywhere: politics, online communities, workplaces, families, and even friendship groups.
Belonging often forms through similarity.
Sometimes through opposition.
The uncomfortable truth is that we rarely outgrow tribal instincts. We simply baptise them in more sophisticated language.
Even churches are not immune from this.
“Our theology is more biblical.”
“Our worship is more authentic.”
“Our tradition is more faithful.”
Conviction matters. Deeply. The church cannot survive without conviction. Yet conviction can harden into comparison, and comparison can slowly become superiority.
— • —
Before long, every line we draw begins answering two questions at once:
Who belongs?
And who does not?
