This encouragement is written by Raymond Chang, Executive for Advocacy and Strategic Initiatives of the TENx10 Collaboration (part of Fuller Theological Seminary) and President of the Asian American Christian Collaborative.
Conflict has never been my preferred spiritual discipline. Yet, some of the most significant formation in my life has taken place in relationships and rooms I wanted to leave but chose to remain in.
Relationships are a two-way street, and when people move toward one another rather than away, something meaningful is formed — something that can not have emerged without friction.
Conflict rarely feels holy in the moment. It is more often uncomfortable, awkward, and exposing. One gathering I attended made this clear. The relationship between President Donald Trump and Christianity was presented to the group. One person argued Trump was the lesser of two evils in a broken system. Another insisted he was fundamentally at odds with Christianity in his character, rhetoric, and policies, especially toward the vulnerable. The room became extremely tense.
To hold space for conflict is to resist the impulse to reduce people to caricatures when disagreement becomes costly. This runs against a deeply individualistic culture. In much of the modern West, relationships are treated like consumer goods: when they become frustrating or demanding, the instinct is to replace them. People abandon their friendships and churches. People get excluded even after being a part of the community for years. Employers fire quickly, employees quit quickly, and communities fracture rather than repair. The issue is not only fragmentation; it is a failure of formation.
When personal peace and preference become ultimate, people are subtly reduced to the functions they serve — valued when they align with us and discarded when they do not. Conflict then feels intolerable because it exposes relationships built on preference and favoritism rather than covenant. If compatibility is the only glue, disagreement will always feel like a rupture.
By contrast, some East Asian contexts have historically fostered stronger expectations of continuity. Japan’s long-term employment model and South Korea’s stricter labor protections have often made separation slower or even non-existent at times (it is worth noting that South Korea’s adoption of a more transactional and industrialist mentality has created significant issues as well). While not perfect or conflict-free, these systems tend to encourage endurance, working through things, and repair. When dismissal or distancing is not the default option, people are forced to develop deeper relational resilience.
This insight came alive in that group conversation. While many leaned toward one perspective, the group sought to listen well to one another, to acknowledge the power dynamics in the room, and respect and honor the humanity of the person on the other side. The task was not to pretend all views were equally sound, but to practice what Ephesians 4:15 describes as speaking the truth in love — refusing both silence and cruelty. It means naming what is harmful without stripping dignity from the one who speaks it. For everyone, the challenge was not only staying present in the disagreement, but holding the relational space without letting it collapse. Fortunately, people chose to work it out through respectful dialogue, seeing that they were closer in their desired ends, but saw the means to achieving that hope as fundamentally different. This was the topic of conversation at the next gathering.
Conflict, then, can become a means of formation. Scripture calls communities to bear with one another, forgive one another, and remain bound together even under strain. Covenant is stronger than convenience. It holds relationships together not by agreement or ease, but by shared commitment before God. In a covenantal community, conflict does not have to lead to fracture; it can become a place where pride is confronted, patience grows, and love is refined.
The implication is simple but demanding: before severing ties, ask whether the impulse comes from wisdom or from a culture that has trained us to commodify one another. Remaining open and seeking connection in the face of disagreement does not mean tolerating harm or abandoning boundaries. It means recognizing that some of the most important growth happens when people remain, tell the truth, and trust that covenant can sustain what comfort cannot.
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