A House Divided Cannot Stand
Why unity - not uniformity - matters in the life of the Church

Readings: Memorial of Saints Timothy and Titus, Bishops
If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand.
- Mark 3:24
Years ago, a young visiting priest introduced himself to me in the sacristy before Mass. We exchanged the usual pleasantries - the kind of surface-level questions people ask when they’re trying to get to know one another.
Then he asked a question that stopped me in my tracks.
“So… are you a Benedict Catholic or a Francis Catholic?”
I knew what he meant. If I said Benedict, it would signal a more “traditional” Catholic identity. If I said Francis, it would suggest something more “pastoral,” “inclusive,” or “open.” The intent may have been curiosity, even connection - but the premise made me deeply sad.
Unable, or unwilling, to choose I simply answered: “Both!”
What saddened me wasn’t the question itself, but what questions like that can quietly do. They don’t just seek understanding - they subtly sort, label, and divide.
We hear versions of this question everywhere now:
Vatican II Catholic or Latin Mass Catholic?
Conservative Catholic or Liberal Catholic?
Democrat or Republican?
Law-and-order or immigrant advocate?
These questions reflect the powerful pull of tribalism in our hyper-divided culture. We are constantly being asked to declare sides, to reduce ourselves - and others - to a single identity or stance. And Jesus is blunt about where that road leads: a house divided cannot stand.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus says these words while responding to accusations that he is casting out demons by the power of Satan. His logic is simple: evil cannot defeat itself. Division is not strength - it’s collapse.
But beneath the argument about demons is a much deeper truth. Jesus is teaching us something essential about unity.
The devil’s strategy is division. Always has been. If he can fracture relationships, distort how we see one another, and convince us that “those people” are the problem, he doesn’t need to destroy the Church from the outside. A divided house will do that work on its own.
And the same is true for the Church founded on Christ.
Unity, however, does not mean uniformity. It does not mean everyone thinks the same, votes the same, worships the same way, or emphasizes the same pastoral priorities. The early Church was full of tension and disagreement - and yet Christ prayed that they would be one.
True unity begins elsewhere.
Unity is learning to see one another through the eyes of Christ.
As people made in the image and likeness of God.
As sisters and brothers before they are labeled and categorized.
As worthy of dignity, respect, and love - even when we disagree.
Especially when we disagree.
When we start there, differences don’t disappear - but they no longer divide us at our core. We can argue, discern, and even struggle together without tearing the people of God apart.
The devil wants us to lead with labels.
Jesus invites us to lead with love, and eyes focused on him.
So maybe the question we need to ask less often is, “Which side are you on?”
And the question we need to ask more often is, “How can I see this person the way Christ sees them?”
Because a Church that begins there - a Church rooted in dignity before division - is a house that will stand.


House divided: a few years into the papacy of Pope Francis, I walked into a Catholic bookstore, looking for a First Communion gift. I had in mind a recently published children’s book about Francis. This store did not carry anything related to or resembling the current pope; I was directed to shelves of material about Benedict and John Paul II. I too felt sad, but also angry, vowing never to go into that store again.
Those people were not my kind of Catholic and no
doubt they felt the same about me: good riddance. Your reflection, Eric, makes me realize my own complicity in a “house divided.”