Illustration by Ted Pitts

Your spouse did it again, and now, on the way to church, you stare out your window in silence. Wait a minute—what happened to marital oneness?

Then after the service, a congregational meeting crashes when the pastoral search committee recommends calling a female pastor. Whoa—where is Christian fellowship?

Unity seems so vulnerable to attack, whether in marriage or the church, whether over personal offenses or thorny theological questions. We know the Lord desires unity for His followers, but how can it become a reality when people are sinful, or simply so different?

Ephesians 4, an entire chapter urging "unity of the Spirit," gives us the key: "From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does in its work" (v. 16). The whole body of Christ grows stronger when individual parts function as they should.

Unity, then, begins with you and me. By our character and by our actions we strengthen— or undermine—the unity of God's church. Here are some checkpoints Scripture gives us for evaluating whether we are unity builders.

PRAYERFUL DEPENDENCY

Donna Downes, missions researcher and teacher in East Africa for 11 years, served on a team composed of both foreigners and Africans. The staff, raised in radically different cultures, often clashed over issues ranging from office location to how much time they should spend with extended family. Tensions mounted. Finally David, the African leader of the mission, resigned in frustration.

A year and a half later, memories of old mistakes still plagued the team. They gathered for a day of prayer. As hours of soul-searching passed, each person began to sense areas where he or she was at fault, and tearfully confessed those sins to the others. The team also prayed for wisdom about how to lay the past to rest in a way that would be meaningful to David. After quiet reflection on how to proceed, the team members went to his home, where they asked for forgiveness before his family and new colleagues. Then, after praying together, they presented David with the gift God had led them to give: a live sheep, which he immediately understood as a biblical symbol of reconciliation.

With so many modern resources available, from books and tapes to on-line advice, it's easy to depend on the wrong things to solve our problems. Damaged by the past? Attend a recovery workshop. Disagree with the pastor about divorce? Read the latest religious bestseller to bolster your case. Yet trusting in other resources without seeking God's perspective leads to self sufficiency. We need to seek the mind of God in prayer instead of leaning on our own understanding.

CHOOSING BATTLES WISELY

When we turn first to God when conflict arises, He helps us answer a key question: Does this issue merit a battle?

In Acts 15 the Jewish believers were having a hard time fellowshipping with Gentiles. And no wonder—the Gentiles, without so much as a nod to Jewish beliefs and values, were claiming equal status in the body of Christ. Yet they weren't even circumcised. How could they be true people of God?

The question boiled down to "What is the essence of the gospel? How is one saved?" The council of Jerusalem's church leaders determined that although Gentiles ought to observe certain traditions in order not to provoke their Jewish brothers, they were nonetheless true believers apart from the law. Period.

This incident was a battle worth fighting. But what about matters not essential to the gospel? Conflicting traditions or cultural practices? Which Bible translation to use? Calvinism versus Arminianism? Which clothing styles are too worldly? Are these things worthy of heated discussion, or should we quit making waves?

Here again, we must seek God's discernment. We need the "wisdom that comes from heaven . . . pure; then peaceloving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere" (Jas. 3:17). Patient prayer, experience, and the counsel of mature believers will help us choose our battles wisely.

THE WAY OF LOVE

Ephesians 4, describing how to live in unity, three times charges us to step out "in love." Yet we often come face to face with the unloving state of our own hearts.

Once, after a disagreement with my husband, I took a walk to blow off steam. "Lord?!" I fumed. "I'm MAD!" Then I heard a quiet voice asking, "And how are you at fault here?"

That got my attention. I had to be honest. I had not acted lovingly. So what if I had an airtight case? So what if I held the more biblical view? First Corinthians 13 leaves no doubt: Those things are less important than the surpassing value of love. Love is patient—but I had wearied of listening to Dan's side. Love keeps no record of wrongs—but I had filed this one away under "Dan's Flaws." Love is kind—but I'd unkindly chosen to withdraw instead of working through something important to him. I had not chosen the way of love. By confessing to Dan my lovelessness, harmony was already 99 percent restored.

JUDGE NOT.

It's hard to feel connected to someone who is judging you. Maybe that's why in Romans 14 Paul urges us to "stop passing judgment on one another" (v. 13) and instead to "make every effort to do what leads to peace and to mutual edification" (v. 19).

When we pass judgment we make assumptions, draw conclusions about someone's motives, moralize, or condemn, all based on limited knowledge. We presume the role of God, who alone knows all about the other person's choices. How can we conquer this tendency? By reminding ourselves in any situation (no matter how it appears) of all the things we don't know.

First, we don't know all the background. That grouchy clerk may have just lost her sister to cancer. A single executive may not be giving more to the church building fund because of obligations to elderly parents.

Second, we can't know another's heart, how hard she may be trying to overcome her excesses, how grieved she may be later over her remembered failure. Perhaps a difficult person is just learning how to use her spiritual gift. An immature teacher may come across as dogmatic, a young leader as insensitive. Perhaps she is a new believer, and God hasn't yet worked on a certain weakness.

And third, we don't even know how often we commit the same sin. Romans 14:12 warns us not to judge, for "each of us will give an account of himself to God." How often have I snapped at a whining child, "Can't you just be patient?" Or, hurt by a friend's rejection, pulled away from her? Or, because of my own ego, dismissed someone else as prideful? We need a Spirit-lightened heart, one that recognizes not only the splinter in the other's eye, but also the log in our own.

Does that mean we should never address the sin in another's life? No, there are times when we must "correct, rebuke and encourage" (2 Tim 4:2). But we do this by going as a fallible fellow sinner; we go intent on preserving unity, not finding fault.

FREE TO FORGIVE

Once you see the log in your own eye, it gets a lot easier to forgive others for their excesses, weaknesses, even for deliberate malice. As fellow sinners, we can embrace the closing words of the Ephesians 4 plea for unity: "Forgiv[e] each other, just as in Christ God forgave you" (v. 32).

Pastor Steve Austvold was once asked to lead a small Midwestern church out of crisis. Its pastor had been forced to resign; half the congregation had left. Austvold spent his first month visiting every member, including those who had left the church—but not to invite them back.

"I told them they had two choices: to continue in bitterness or to forgive," he says. "I knew that if they didn't deal with bitterness, they would become captive to their own pain, and their spiritual growth would stop."

When some claimed they had already forgiven, Austvold probed further. "I explained that one evidence of genuine forgiveness would be praying for whomever they considered an enemy. They would need to ask God to bless that person rather than seeking revenge."

The healing process in the church ultimately took several years, but within the first month most attitudes had turned around. The church regained a sense of hope. Many who'd said they would never return did, in fact, come back.

Such is the power of a forgiving spirit in restoring unity.

CLOTHED WITH HUMILITY

A single thread runs through all the other unity-building qualities: humility. When confronting offenses or differences, whether one-on-one or churchwide, the humble heart goes to God first. Then even in the face of insults, humility acts in love, with patience and kindness. It relegates unworthy battles to the dead-files drawer, yet when appropriate, will pursue peace at all costs to personal reputation. Humility doesn't judge because it knows intimately its own failings. It forgives, remembering its own acute need for forgiveness.

The question to ask is not, "Why is there division in the church?" but "Is there Christlikeness in me?" Am I bathing conflicts in prayer, even when I think I already know what to do? Am I cultivating loving patience and kindness in my conversations? Am I willing to set aside my opinion for the sake of unity? Am I taking the initiative to pursue peace, even when it's embarrassing? Am I growing not only in how much I know, but also in my awareness of how much I don't know? Am I closing the gap between that first twinge of conscience and my obedient repentance? Am I claiming personal rights less, worrying about my image less, blaming others less, craving control less? Am I increasingly giving others the credit? When we are maturing as individual parts, the whole body grows stronger, "attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ" (Eph. 4:13).

Perhaps the most important question of all comes as we look to the divine example, God hanging broken on the cross, for the sake of oneness with a lost world. Unity was worth it to Him.

Is it to me?

Tricia Clement is a staff member with Campus Crusade, International, in Romania. She also serves on the board of Bucharest Christian Academy.

She and her husband attribute the harmony in their marriage to their commitment to resolve conflicts. Both are convinced that a similar harmony should and could be the norm among all believers who would resolve to walk in humility.