A unique Biblical Perspective

Last Sunday, my pastor made a striking statement: “The church is a mess.” He was not referring to any one congregation, but to the Body of Christ as a whole. Later that day, in a conversation with one of my favorite sons in the faith, that statement resurfaced as we began talking about Christian brotherhood. As often happens, he was surprised by my perspective. That conversation compelled me to put my thoughts in writing—to re‑examine, biblically and honestly, what it truly means to call someone a Christian brother or sister. 

Within the Black community, the terms brother and sister have long been used beyond the boundaries of biological family. For me, this practice goes back to the late 1960s and the rise of the Afrocentric movement, when greeting one another as “brother” or “sister” became an expression of shared identity and collective dignity. It signaled a common ethnic bond and, more deeply, a shared struggle for justice, liberation, and unity.

Even today, I maintain deep and meaningful relationships where this language remains natural and sincere. In those spaces, brother and sister function as markers of solidarity—an acknowledgment that our lives are, in some meaningful way, bound together. Yet over the years, I have found myself wrestling with a troubling question: What is truly being communicated when these words are spoken?

I have had individuals—people who actively sought to harm my reputation, undermine my work, or act as adversaries—address me as “brother.” Social etiquette often required that I return the greeting, even when internally I rejected the notion that such a person was, in any meaningful sense, my brother. This tension exposes a deeper problem: when brotherhood is reduced to a greeting, it loses its moral and spiritual substance.

From the perspective of a believer—an ambassador of Christ—we must ask harder questions. What does Scripture mean when it asks, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” (Genesis 4:9). What does it demand when it proclaims, “How good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell together in unity” (Psalm 133:1)? The Bible is filled with rich and challenging portrayals of brotherhood and sisterhood—portrayals that go far beyond familiarity or shared identity.

One often-overlooked example appears in Judges 11:37, in the story of Jephthah’s unnamed daughter and the sisters who mourned with her. These women ministered with and to her until her death. In my view, this narrative offers one of the most profound models of biblical sisterhood and brotherhood in all of Scripture, rivaled only by the relationship between Jesus and His disciples. It reveals companionship rooted in presence, faithfulness, and shared suffering.

So the central question remains: Is there a distinction between cultural brotherhood and Christian brotherhood? I believe the answer is yes—unequivocally.

Jesus presents a model of brotherhood forged in suffering, sustained by communal survival, and grounded in dignity and covenant responsibility. Scripture defines Christian brotherhood and sisterhood as spiritual kinship in Christ. This means we do not simply recognize one another—we belong to one another. We are commanded to bear one another’s burdens (Galatians 6:2), reminded that if one member suffers, all suffer together (1 Corinthians 12:26). In Christ, your pain is no longer yours alone. I would argue that true biblical friendship demands selflessness—placing the call to honor Christ and nurture the growth of another above one’s own priorities (Galatians 4:19). This, my friends, is just one of the characteristics that make us different. 

This spiritual interconnectedness echoes Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s assertion that “injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” Writing from a Birmingham jail, King articulated a truth that resonates deeply with Christian theology: when one part of the body is wounded, the entire body is compromised. Christian brotherhood cannot coexist with indifference to inequality, oppression, or suffering—especially within the household of faith.

True manhood, then, is not measured by dominance, physical strength, or cultural posturing. It is measured by the strength to love—to care for a brother or sister in their darkest hour and to stand faithfully in their moment of victory. Jesus defines this love clearly: “Love the Lord your God… and love your neighbor as yourself” (Mark 12:30–31). Yet we have often allowed the world to distort manhood, shaping it from the brain—the spiritual and emotional core—to the bronze—the muscular, authoritarian image celebrated by culture.

Christian friendship, when rightly understood, mirrors the work of a shepherd. It is sacrificial, sacred, prophetic, and liberating. It guards dignity, tells the truth in love, and refuses abandonment. In this sense, brotherhood is not a label—it is a covenant.

This is the vision Jesus prayed the world would see: “That they may all be one… so that the world may believe” (John 17:20–23). When our relationships lack this depth, we are not living in Christian brotherhood—we are merely participating in an ambiguous membership model that demands little and offers less.

My prayer is that we would learn to shepherd our friendships as Christians—to cultivate relationships that are unmistakably shaped by Christ rather than convenience or culture. When Christian brotherhood is lived authentically, it does more than affirm identity; it draws others to Jesus.

I’m just saying.