The Power and Spirituality of Relationship

David Kelly • September 23, 2026

“It is difficult to hate someone whose story you know.”

In Scripture, we hear Jesus constantly challenging us to step beyond the boundaries we create for ourselves. He calls us out of our comfort zones and our isolated lives and invites us to see one another differently—to look beyond appearances, background, race, status, politics, or any of the other labels we so easily place upon one another.


This is at the heart of Emmanuel Katongole's powerful book Mirror to the Church. A priest and professor at Duke University, Katongole examines the 1994 genocide in Rwanda. Though he is from Uganda, his father was from Rwanda, giving him a deeply personal connection to the tragedy.


Katongole reminds us of something that is difficult to comprehend: the people who were killing one another were often not strangers. They were neighbors. They lived alongside one another. They worked together. And many were Christians who worshipped together.


As Katongole writes, when Hutus were told to kill their Tutsi neighbors, they faced a terrible choice: either participate or risk being killed themselves. He observes that if Christians in Rwanda had been slaughtered by non-Christians, it would have been tragic—but perhaps easier to comprehend. Instead, Christians killed other Christians, sometimes in the very churches where they had worshipped together.


The horror of Rwanda, then, is not only a story about violence. It is also a story about identity.

Katongole makes a profoundly challenging observation: the blood of tribalism can become more powerful than the waters of baptism.


Those words should make us stop and reflect.


Who are we, really?


Are we first and foremost Christians? Or do other identities have a greater claim on us? Nationality? Race? Political party? Economic status? Neighborhood? Culture? Our own particular group or “tribe”?


Tribalism does not always look like violence. More often, it begins quietly. It can begin with the decision to stop listening. It can appear when we reduce another person to a label. It grows when we assume that someone we disagree is not only disagreeable, but evil or dangerous or a criminal. It takes root when we begin to see “them” as fundamentally different from “us.”


And if we are honest, we can see this kind of tribalism in our own society.


It can divide families. It can create tension among friends. It can enter our parishes and our neighborhoods. It can even find its way into the Church, where people who share the same baptism can sometimes find themselves separated by identities and loyalties that seem more powerful than their identity in Christ.


Jesus does not ask us to pretend that our differences do not exist. He asks us to encounter the person who is different from us. He asks us to cross the road. To listen. To see. To recognize the humanity of the person standing in front of us.


Relationship has spiritual power because relationship changes the way we see.


It is difficult to hate someone whose story you know.


It is harder to dismiss someone when you have sat at the same table, heard about their family, learned their hopes and fears, shared a laugh, or walked with them through a moment of suffering. Encounter has a way of breaking down the walls that abstraction builds.


This is one of the great spiritual gifts of relationship: it makes the other person real.


There is no doubt that it can be challenging. There are people in our lives who because of what they say or do, cause us to shun them or label them or harm them. At Precious Blood Ministry of Reconciliation, we see this over and over. The trauma that someone carries can cause them to lash out. Reconciliation is not just some nice idea. It is not simply a program or a set of principles. It is a choice to value relationship; it is a choice to live in communion with one another – even those we disagree with. It can only happen when we are willing to step out of our comfort or tribe or experience and try understand the brother or sister in front of us.


A young person becomes more than a mistake he or she has made.


A person who has been harmed becomes more than a victim.


A person who has caused harm becomes more than the worst thing he or she has done.


The Christian life calls us into this deeper identity. Before we are members of any tribe, we are God's beloved. Before we are divided by our differences, we are connected through our common dignity as God's children. We are claimed by Christ and called into a communion that is larger than any boundary we might construct.


Perhaps this is why Jesus so often brings people together who would not naturally choose one another.


By David Kelly • November 6, 2026
On Thursday, October 29, 2026, Precious Blood Ministry of Reconciliation and Father Dave Kelly accepted an award as Finalists for the 2026 Opus Prize, a global faith-based prize for social entrepreneurship. Every year, The Opus Prize Foundation partners with a different Catholic university to honor work that addresses some of the most persistent social challenges of our time. We were nominated by our friends and strong collaborators at DePaul University along with two other amazing changemakers across the world: Siyakhathala in Cape Town, South Africa, was founded in 2009 by Ms. Nontsasa Nyovane to assist children that have lost both of their parents to violence or HIV/AIDS. DePaul Ukraine in Kyiv, Ukraine, was started more than 20 years ago by Fr. Vitaliy Novak, C.M., the 2026 Opus Prize Laureate winner, to assist those experiencing homelessness throughout the country. Click here to read DePaul University's recap on the evening , and watch a video below introducing the finalists from DePaul University:
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By Karlyn Boens, RJHubs • November 24, 2025
The following text is an excerpt from an article of the same title, first published on the RJHubs website by Karlyn Boens. Joe’s story brought these themes to life on a human scale. “I never had a chance to be a kid,” he shared. Growing up in constant survival mode, childhood was something he had to skip to stay alive. At PBMR, he experienced something different: “I could let my hair down. I discovered I was good at talking to people.” What Joe encountered was radical hospitality and accompaniment—restorative practices that rarely appear in legislation or policy yet quietly transform lives every day. Where systems had seen risk, PBMR saw relationship. Where institutions had offered surveillance, PBMR offered presence and belonging. His story illustrated what it looks like when the human rights lens is made concrete: a space where connection, dignity, and possibility are not conditional, but assumed. This conversation captures what restorative justice demands of us in Illinois. It is not about launching more programs or pilots. It is about: A paradigm shift in how we understand safety A culture shift in how institutions wield power A system shift in how decisions are made, data is collected, and accountability is defined Imagine an Illinois where: Human rights guide decision-making Restorative justice is the standard, not the exception Communities lead the healing Data includes lived experience, not just charges and convictions Redemption is not selective Adults are not excluded from restoration And every child has the chance to just be a child  This panel did not hand us easy answers. Instead, it offered an invitation—a call to build the ecosystem our communities have been waiting for, one relationship, one policy, one practice at a time.
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