The Risk of Relationship | Adam Stahr

Relationships are risky.

If you've been hurt in the past, then you understand this all too well. Entering into a meaningful relationship requires vulnerability, which opens the door to potential hurt and pain. This isn’t a risk exclusive to unhealthy and dysfunctional relationships either. The reality of indwelling sin means that not even the healthiest marriages, families, friendships, or churches are immune. Where there is relationship there is sin, conflict, and, ultimately, the risk of pain.

I can still remember my first encounter with this risk as a young pastor. Up until that point, I had managed to avoid the “ministry wounds” that I heard so many seasoned ministry leaders describe. But this was it. This was the feeling they had all described. I felt betrayed and disregarded by someone I trusted and counted a friend. Although we pursued reconciliation, the experience stayed with me. As additional wounds accumulated over time—especially in the wake of 2020—I eventually found myself determined to avoid this risk altogether.

If the risk of pain is unavoidable, however, even in the healthiest of relationships, there seemed to be only one way to avoid it: isolation. I was never physically isolated, of course. My family and ministry rhythms wouldn’t allow for that. Nevertheless, outside of my wife and maybe a few, select individuals, I manage to keep everyone else at a “safe” distance.

Maybe you've been there before. Maybe you're there right now. Perhaps you've felt the sting of betrayal or accumulated your own collection of ministry wounds. You might have experienced relational pain and, like me, decided, "Never again!"—choosing to back up and keep a safe distance to avoid getting hurt again.

Fortunately, this isn’t the end of the story. For the Christian, relationships aren’t just risky. Because of the good news of the gospel, relationships are also redemptive. It’s in the context of relationship with other followers of Jesus that we experience the healing and transforming grace of God, in Christ, by the power of His Spirit.

The gospel is always drawing us into relationship with God and one another. When we sin against a brother or sister in Christ, the gospel calls us to repent and seek forgiveness. When we’ve been sinned against, the gospel empowers us to extend forgiveness. In the midst of suffering and affliction, the gospel invites us not only to receive comfort from God but also to comfort others. The momentum of the gospel—even when we’ve been wounded—always draws us back into Christian relationship and community within the body of Christ.

That’s what it did for me. Slowly, over time, with the help of faithful brothers in Christ, I began to trust again. I turned away from my strategies of isolation and self-preservation, and leaned into relationship once more instead of backing away from it.

Are relationships risky? Yes. If you've been hurt in the past, I can't promise you won't be hurt again. However, by the grace of God, Christian relationships aren’t just places where wounds occur; they’re also where we grow, mature, and heal. That's why relationships aren't just risks—they’re risks worth taking.