Jesus and the twelve disciples lived within constant relational tension. When we look at the many different expressions of church today, it becomes clear that various church structures create different kinds of community—and different kinds of relational interaction within the Body of Christ.

In larger churches, it is often possible to attend without ever truly interacting with others at a deep level. But once you step into a smaller group, a leadership role, or a specific assignment, relational conflict almost inevitably emerges. The reality is this: the smaller the ministry, the more exposed we become to one another—and the more conflict surfaces.

As I was thinking about this, I began to reflect on Jesus and the twelve disciples. I wondered how much relational conflict must have existed among them. When you truly think about it, it is remarkable that anything was accomplished at all—or that we even have Christianity today.

These men came from vastly different backgrounds. Their educations varied. Their life experiences were nothing alike. Their value systems often clashed. Matthew, for instance, was a tax collector—employed by Rome. Surely there was suspicion surrounding him. At the same time, fishermen and common laborers were likely looked down upon by others within the group. If you really consider it, every form of extreme thinking probably existed among the twelve.

Scripture shows us that they were frequently conflicted—and at times openly argumentative. Each man held tightly to what he believed, what he valued, and what he thought was right. They fought to have their perspectives heard, embraced, and validated. We see Peter’s lack of understanding. We see Thomas wrestling with doubt. Later, we see conflict between Paul and John Mark—and even between Paul and Peter.

Like us today, they were on a journey—discovering truth and deciding what they would ultimately believe about that truth.

At that point in history, there was no centralized doctrine. Doctrine was being formed in real time. Each apostle was at a different level of maturity, experience, and understanding—both in relation to the Holy Spirit and in how they interpreted the words Jesus spoke to them.

Today, we at least have a completed Bible that is meant to bring us into unity. Yet even now, we are deeply divided over doctrine, truth, and interpretation. These divisions inevitably surface in how we relate to one another. And those relational exposures reveal where we are still lacking in understanding and truth.

Just as it was then, culture was constantly trying to shape and distort truth. And that is no different in our present hour. Culture now dictates how truth is interpreted—asking whether it is politically correct, non-offensive, or acceptable to personal preference. We guard our own interpretations fiercely. We add layers to support what we already want to believe rather than submitting ourselves to what truth actually is.

We often attempt to fix spiritual issues through unbiblical means—through intellectual ascent, emotional reasoning, or worldly practices wrapped in biblical language. The result is a mental mixture: truth diluted, compromised, and reshaped to fit comfort rather than conviction.

Yet in the midst of all the conflict the early apostles faced, they still managed to accomplish the mission. They set aside unresolved differences and continued moving forward toward the Kingdom goal. What empowered them was their perception of what held the greatest value.

Today, however, we often fight for our own preferences, our pet doctrines, and our personal projects—rather than yielding to the larger Kingdom plan trying to unfold.

The very fact that relational conflict exists—and that it can slow us down or even derail a move of God—should alert us to something important: the journey of truth we are on must be of great value, or it would not be attacked so fiercely.

Looking back over the years, I have noticed a pattern. Whenever a genuine move of God begins to emerge, one of the most common things that stops it is relational conflict—especially among leaders or those actively serving. There is a difference between disagreement over understanding and a refusal to resolve conflict. The latter is what causes damage.

Many times, we leave the Word of God out of the process. Other times, we ignore or resist the prompting of the Holy Spirit. Often, we are not seeking God’s conclusion—we are seeking our own. What I have learned is that resolution frequently takes time, because it is ultimately a heart issue. And the heart must change its position.

Emotions can interfere. Pride can block conviction. And unresolved wounds can prevent transformation. Most of us are probably living with some level of unresolved conflict at any given time. The real question is whether we are trusting God to work it out—and whether we are willing to obey when the Spirit prompts us to act.

Returning again to the twelve apostles, I am sure they lived for long periods with unresolved tension, waiting for truth to fully come and clarify their direction. But until that truth was revealed, they chose mission over division. They set aside their differences and committed themselves to advancing the Kingdom in the earth.

Yes, they argued over who would be the greatest. Yes, they debated who would sit at the right hand. But when the Holy Spirit came, something shifted. At Pentecost, the Spirit of understanding was released. After that moment, they were no longer fighting over position—they were willing to die for one another.

There is an action of the Holy Spirit that must occur to truly resolve relational conflict. When the Spirit comes, it reveals that what we were fighting for was never as important as we believed. A greater weight enters the room—the King and His Kingdom. And when that happens, everything else falls into its proper place.