Brotherhood beyond Our Group (part 1)

A small-town church building burns down. Smoke still rises as people gather, grieving their loss. Across the street stands another church, different tradition, different worship style, but undeniably part of the same spiritual family. Yet, instead of offering help, comfort, or solidarity, the neighboring congregation merely watches from the sidelines, sipping coffee, exchanging speculative gossip, and quietly calculating how many visitors might wander over next Sunday. It’s not just tacky, it’s Edom-level sinful. 

Four Truths from Obadiah

Obadiah may be the shortest book in the Old Testament, but it delivers a fierce rebuke. It’s a word of judgment against Edom, Israel’s neighbor and relative. Edom’s sin wasn’t a direct act of war, it was standing by and doing nothing while their brother, Israel, was attacked. As descendants of Esau, Edom shared a family bond with Israel through Jacob. That kinship should’ve meant love and loyalty. Instead, they looked, laughed, and looted.

That’s what makes Edom’s betrayal so tragic. This wasn’t just bad politics, it was a violation of family. Edom and Israel weren’t strangers; they were kin. And when Israel was at its lowest, Edom didn’t respond with compassion or solidarity. They failed to show what the Bible calls hesed.  Hesed is one of the richest words in the Old Testament and is the conceptual background of Obadiah.[1]  It’s often translated as steadfast love, kindness, mercy, or loyalty. It describes God’s faithful love toward His people (Ps. 6:4; 103:4, 8, 11, 17), and it’s meant to shape our relationships too—especially with family (Gen. 20:13). In the ancient near east, people often enter into covenants in order to establish and maintain a 'Hesed' relationship. At its core, hesed is about unwavering commitment, mutual support, and lasting care. It creates the kind of faithful relationships that produces shalom.

Edom owed Israel that kind of loyalty. But instead of showing hesed, they stood by smirking as Jerusalem fell. They gawked at the wreckage, chuckled at the carnage, and even profited from the disaster. Obadiah 11–14 outlines their sin in four parts, each a direct rejection of hesed:

1. Indifference – “You stood aloof” (v. 11). Edom did violence by doing nothing. They stood with arms crossed while their brother bled.
2. Enjoyment of Judgment – “Do not gloat over your brother’s day” (v. 12). When Israel faced God’s judgment through Babylon, Edom watched with smug satisfaction, as if they had front-row seats with popcorn in hand.
3. Opportunism – “Do not loot their wealth in the day of their disaster” (v. 13). Rather than help, they took the opportunity to steal what was left.
4. Ruthlessness – “You should not have stood at the crossroads to cut down their fugitives” (v. 14). They showed no 'mercy' to their kin. Instead of helping the hurting heal, they hurt them all the more. They even captured and even enslaved them. 

Edom’s sin was not just inaction, it was betrayal. God expected hesed; but when covenant loyalty is replaced with cold-hearted opportunism, judgment is sure to follow. This was a Cain-level betrayal (Gen. 4), family turning on family. In the face of suffering, Edom failed to love even his neighbor and kin. In the end, God expected loyalty; Edom chose treachery. And for breaking that sacred bond, judgment was certain. 

Imitating Edom

Fast forward a few thousand years, and the same script plays out in the church world. A denomination struggles, maybe from scandal, decline, or theological confusion, and what do other churches do? Stand aloof. Maybe whisper about doctrinal compromise. Maybe rejoice a little that “God is clearly blessing us instead.” Obadiah calls this what it is: betrayal. In Christ, we are family, and family doesn’t let family bleed out on the sidewalk while they update our instagram.

Paul Ramsey, in his influential work 'Basic Christian Ethics', powerfully frames this issue through the lens of "neighbor love," a love grounded not merely in affection or sentiment, but in covenantal obligation.  Ramsey emphasizes that genuine love for our neighbor emerges from the recognition of a covenantal bond created by God. This covenant requires us to actively seek the good of others, particularly within the community of faith, reflecting God's own steadfast, covenantal love toward us. Ramsey describes neighbor love not merely as sentimental affection but involves a covenantal commitment to show 'hesed' love for one another, even when it’s inconvenient, uncomfortable, or doesn’t benefit your brand. Applying Ramsey's insight, denominations are thus not merely partners by coincidence or mutual benefit; they are bound by divine covenant to love and care for one another. This covenantal neighbor love mandates a proactive response to the suffering and needs of fellow Christians, transcending social and denominational barriers. 

Obadiah vividly illustrates Ramsey’s principle by revealing Edom’s profound failure in covenantal neighbor love. Today, our churches face a similar crossroads. The New Testament affirms that every believer is united in Christ as one body (1 Cor 12:12–13). Thus, when we allow denominational distinctives to morph into a spiritual identity ripe with tribal loyalties we sow the seeds of our own judgment. The fruit of a twisted denominational identity is indifference, competition, or even subtle satisfaction at another church’s struggle. In short we repeat Edom's grievous error. Of course, in the age of YouTube Christianity, this gets even messier. Entire channels have built their brands by becoming professional heresy hunters. Every pastoral misstep, theological controversy, or ministry scandal becomes an opportunity, not for prayer, not for restoration, but for views, likes, and monetization. Some creators treat church breakdowns like reality TV, entertainment wrapped in Bible verses. It’s Edom with a a comment section.

Now, let’s be fair. There’s a world of difference between those who seek truth and accountability and those who salivate over spiritual failure. We need discernment in the church. There are faithful voices, who tackle error with clarity and care, genuinely desiring repentance and renewal. But others? Their platform is fueled not by love for the Body but by the algorithm. It’s theological rubbernecking dressed in pseudo-discernment robes.

The difference lies in motive: Are you standing in the gap for your brother, or standing aloof with popcorn and a punchline? Are you using your voice to call the wandering home, or to profit off their public stumble? 

A Way Forward

What do we do with all this? First, kill the branding and embrace the brotherhood. Churches aren’t rival franchises. They’re parts of the same Body. Denominations should see themselves not as competitors but as partners in kingdom work. This doesn’t imply glossing over significant doctrinal differences; rather, it emphasizes prioritizing core gospel truths and Christian charity over secondary disputes. Essential doctrines, such as the Trinity, Christ’s divinity, sin and salvation, and basic Christian ethical standards, remain foundational. Yet within these gospel boundaries, denominations must support one another generously and wholeheartedly. So Yes, doctrinal integrity matters, but secondary issues shouldn’t outweigh our shared foundation in Christ. Let’s not be more loyal to our denominational logo than to the Lamb who was slain. 

Second, stop being passive. “Standing aloof” may not sound like much, but in heaven’s courtroom, it’s damning. If another church suffers, mourn with them. If another denomination faces hardship, lend a hand. God won’t be impressed with our ability to "stay in our lane" if that lane leads straight past a ditch filled with our brother.

Obadiah doesn’t just bring fire and brimstone. It also brings hope. Verse 17 speaks of deliverance and restoration for those who choose God’s way. That offer still stands. God delights in those who mend fences, lift burdens, and act like His kids, united by the gospel, not divided by religious identity politics and branding. So let’s rewind that burning church scene. This time, picture every local church showing up with water, tools, casseroles, and a shared grief. No one asking who gets credit. No one angling for a social media post.  Just Christians, loving like Jesus, because the blood and the covenant they are all under demands it. Obadiah isn’t just about Edom. It’s about us. And so I turn the question to you: Are you on the sidelines as the church burns? Or are you living out Hesed love?

Footnote 
[1] While the Hebrew word 'Hesed' is not in obadiah given it is a book of judgement. Although the concept of 'Hesed' is central to understanding the message of Obadiah. The lack of this quality on Edom's part is a key reason for their condemnation.