From Throwing Stones to Building Something Lasting

It is unsettling to witness division in Christian churches and schools, especially when Scripture reminds us of the goodness of unity: “How good and pleasant it is when brothers live together in unity” (Psalm 133:1). This most perfect notion of unity is a divine reality because of God’s love in Christ, and not some human creation. Yet, in this fallen world, we often find ourselves grappling with various types of division and disagreement. Even so, God continues to accomplish remarkable things through His Word and His people, despite—and often amid—our brokenness. We would be wise not to underestimate His ability to bring beauty and purpose amid the chaos.

J.R.R. Tolkien captured this truth in his concept of a eucatastrophe, a “good” catastrophe. It is the idea that just when all seems lost, hope and goodness emerge. This is the story of The Lord of the Rings and, even more profoundly, the story of history itself: Christ’s victory over sin, death, and the devil at the moment when hope seemed to die. There is no evidence to suggest that God has chosen to work differently in our world today. He continues to bring redemption amid the thistles and thorns of life, even as we are regularly directed back to the central work of God in Jesus’ death and resurrection.

Don’t get me wrong. There are real differences over important matters among believers…on topics that should not be dismissed or downplayed just so that we can pretend to be in agreement. Yet, there is still ample room and significant biblical wisdom to guide us on how we disagree with one another...how we speak about and treat one another even amid disagreement and division. We are called to be ready to give and answer, but we are also called to do it with gentleness and respect. We are taught about what love looks like, that it does “not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth.” It is also patient, kind, does not envy, boast, is not proud or rude, is not self-seeking, it doesn’t insist on its own way, it is not irritable or resentful, it bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, and endures all things. And the fruit of the Spirit are not reserved for those with whom we are in full agreement. They are virtues of the Christian life: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. So, we are called to seek after and celebrate truth, and we are simulteanously called to expressions of faith and love noted in passages like 1 Corinthians 13 and Galatians 5.

When disagreement and division occur, they often reveal the worst in us. Anger and hurt can leave us feeling justified in throwing stones at those we believe are to blame. It’s heartbreaking to see people, teeth clenched, casting stone after stone for weeks, months, or even years. “If only I throw more stones, bigger stones, or get more people to throw stones alongside me,” they reason. Some wrap their rage in a cloak of righteous indignation, convincing themselves that one more stone will bring justice, heal their pain, bring the other to repentance and submission to their will, or fix the situation. Yet, at some point, wisdom whispers that the same stones used to wound can also be used to build—something beautiful, enduring, and life-giving for generations to come.

I experienced this firsthand during my time as President of Goddard College. For three years, I poured countless hours into trying to save the institution. When I left, I believed we had done enough to secure its future. Yet three years later, the school announced it was closing. It was devastating—for alumni, students, faculty, staff, and for me. The grief and anger were palpable. But to the credit of many, within less than thirty days, there were at least three groups mobilizing to carry forward the mission and spirit of the college, reimagining it for a new future. Instead of flinging stones, they chose to use them to build. Whether or not they succeed, I believe they have chosen the better path.

This reminds me of Paul, Barnabas, and John Mark on their first missionary journey. When Mark abandoned the group partway through, it led to a sharp disagreement between Paul and Barnabas as they prepared for their second journey. The argument was so intense that they parted ways—Paul traveling with Silas, and Barnabas with John Mark. Yet out of that division came a multiplication of the mission. Two missionary teams instead of one, each doing the work of spreading the Gospel.

Maybe there’s a lesson here for us. God works through His Word despite and amid our disagreements and limitations. He brings redemption to flawed people and broken situations, transforming what is marred by human sin and failure into something that serves His greater purposes. Rather than clinging to anger or grief, we are invited to trust in His redemptive power and turn our energy toward building something beautiful—a testimony to His grace and the work He can do through willing hands and hearts.

Sometimes fidelity and flourishing come only at the end of a long and painful journey through the thistles and thorns of disagreement, division, and even failure. Yet, this is no theology of glory. We are not guaranteed earthly success or resolution. The ultimate victory over sin, death, and the devil was accomplished on the cross. That triumph, however, gives us the confidence to face today’s challenges and risks with courage and conviction, knowing that God’s work is not confined to earthly outcomes but rooted in His eternal purposes—even as we are regularly directed back to the central work of God in Jesus’ death and resurrection.