A few weeks had passed since the arrest of the apostles, and thankfully, the status quo of the church had returned.

The servants of God had refused to buckle before the Sanhedrin, sticking to their conviction. After an intervention by Gamaliel, a well-respected teacher of the law, all they received were floggings and warnings not to speak in the name of Jesus. As they walked out, giving praise to God for being counted worthy to suffer for His name’s sake, only a fool would believe that they would actually kowtow to these demands.

The church was growing, and no matter what its critics thought and felt, it was not stopping any time soon. The Word continued to spread, many continued to repent and believe in Jesus as the Messiah, and believers continued to dwell in love and harmony and service to one another.

That morning, the service aspect was in full gear. Mathea stood among the women in the courtyard, carefully handing out parcels of food to the gathered widows. The sun bore down on Jerusalem, but she was too focused on her task to mind the heat. It was a joy to serve—to give as the Lord had given to them. And there was nothing more satisfying than putting smiles on the faces of these widows.

As the usual murmurs of gratitude echoed throughout the courtyard, however, a sharp voice rose above them, loud and piercing. 

“This is the third time I’ve come and received nothing!”

Mathea turned around. She recognized the speaker—a Hellenist widow, her face flushed with frustration.

She shut her eyes. Oh, no, not again.

For a couple of days, there had been murmurs among the Hellenists, alleging that they were not receiving fair treatment. It had led to a couple of small squabbles, which led to the apostles having to intervene and wait on tables to ensure harmony.

And from the look of this widow’s facial expression of frustration and her outburst, it was about to get feisty once more.

A Hebrew woman, already clutching her parcel of bread and figs, scoffed. “Perhaps you should come earlier if you want your share.”

Another voice, also Hellenist, cut in. “That is easy for you to say. You Hebrew widows always seem to receive plenty. But what of us? Are we less in the eyes of the brethren?”

The tension in the air thickened. Mathea’s stomach twisted as she saw more women turning to join the dispute.

No, no, no, this is not what we need…

“That is not true!” a Hebrew woman countered. “We are all equal in Christ!”

“Then why is it that our widows are neglected?” another Hellenist woman demanded.

“Because you do not believe as we do!” another Hebrew woman shot back, her voice rising above the murmurs. “Your Greek ways bring discord among us!”

The Hellenist woman’s eyes flashed with anger. “Our ways? We are all followers of the Way, or have you forgotten? Does our faith count for less because our language is different?”

The crowd murmured, some nodding in agreement, others shaking their heads in disbelief. A younger Hebrew widow stepped forward, her voice firm yet tinged with sadness. “It’s not about language or culture; it’s about who gets here first. We all must wait our turn!”

Another Hellenist, her voice dripping with sarcasm, responded, “Oh, so now it’s about who can push through the crowd the fastest? Is this the fellowship we preach?”

Mathea stepped forward, raising her hands in an attempt to bring peace. “Sisters, please, let us not quarrel—” 

But it was too late. 

More voices joined the fray, both Hellenist and Hebrew believers speaking over one another. The courtyard, once filled with the warmth of fellowship, now bristled with division. 

From the other side of the courtyard, Mathea saw Peter, John, and the other apostles approaching. Their faces were drawn with concern. Clearly, this was not the first time they had encountered such a dispute. 

Peter sighed, rubbing his forehead. The other apostles exchanged weary glances. 

John stepped forward first, his voice calm yet firm. “What is happening here?” 

Immediately, both sides turned toward them, voices clashing as they tried to explain. 

“The Hellenist widows are being overlooked in the daily distribution!” 

“That is not true! Everyone is given a fair share!”

“Then why are they receiving less?”

Peter raised a hand, silencing them.

“This must stop,” he called, shaking his head. “Are we not one body?” 

The crowd fell into an uneasy hush. Mathea could see the struggle on Peter’s face. The apostles had been doing everything—teaching, praying, leading—and now, disputes over food were consuming their time and energy.

Sighing, he took a deep breath and turned the crowd. “Hear me! We will help serve the food, just to ensure all is well,” he announced. “But, I want all disciples to meet with us immediately after the distribution. We need to discuss how we can ensure this does not happen again. This has to come to an end.”

The tension seemed to dissuade with his announcement. Mathea breathed a sigh of relief as the aggression drifted away.

Her hope, however, was that they would find a solution to this quandary. They could not continue dealing with these toxic clashes; it was bad for the church.

***

Not long after the distribution was complete and all had left, the apostles gathered in a corner of the courtyard with a number of disciples, including Shiloh, who was off work for the day.

Peter exhaled. “This is not the first time we have seen division among the brethren. But we must not allow it to fester.”

John nodded. “The Lord has called us to preach the word. To minister to the people. We cannot neglect that to settle disputes like these.”

Philip then spoke. “We need you to appoint men to oversee this matter. Men of wisdom and good repute, full of the Spirit.”

Peter nodded slowly. “Yes. They can handle the daily distribution, so that we can devote ourselves fully to prayer and the ministry of the Word.”

The others murmured their agreement. 

Shiloh and the others nodded. “It is a good plan,” Shiloh murmured.

“Indeed. We cannot allow this unnecessary bickering to continue,” another disciple agreed.

Peter nodded and straightened up. “Then call an assembly together as soon as possible, and choose these men.”

***

“So there was there another quarrel at the courtyard today?”

Shiloh sighed as he nodded in response to his older son’s question, lowering himself onto a stool. “Yes… but the apostles have taken action.”

Berechiah and Gedaliah exchanged glances. They had heard quite a lot of murmurs in the streets recently, about the quiet frustrations that had been growing between the Hellenists and the Hebrews. And it was unsettling, to say the least.

The love and unity that once defined the believers had begun to crack under the weight of division, and that was not a pleasant reality they could accept.

Mathea sat beside Shiloh, shaking her head. “It was worse today. The widows are growing desperate, and quite offensive in their language. Some believe they are being overlooked, while others insist everything is fair. The arguing nearly overshadowed the work of the day.”

Berechiah exhaled. “It was bound to happen. I’ve seen it myself, and it does appear that some of the Hellenists are receiving less, though I doubt it was intentional. But the frustration has been simmering for too long.”

Gedaliah crossed his arms. “And the apostles? What did they say?”

Shiloh leaned back, rubbing his beard. “They have decided that they can no longer oversee the distribution themselves. It is consuming too much of their time. Instead, they have tasked some of us to meet and appoint men to handle it—men of wisdom, filled with the Spirit, who will serve faithfully.”

Berechiah nodded slowly. “That makes sense. The apostles should be teaching and leading, not settling disputes over food.”

Gedaliah agreed. “Yes. And hopefully, once the right men are chosen, this problem will be solved before it grows worse.”

Shiloh sighed, his expression thoughtful. “That is my hope, son.” He looked between them. “The decision is wise, but it depends on who we appoint. If the men we choose are just, and they serve with humility, then peace will be restored. But if they are not…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

Mathea placed a hand on his. “Worry not, my lord. The Lord will guide you.”

Gedaliah nodded in agreement. “We will pray with you, Father, that God will give you and the other brethren wisdom in your choice.” 

Shiloh exhaled deeply. “Thank you, my dear family. I am most grateful for your support. It means a lot.”

“It is the least we owe you, my lord,” Mathea assured him. “Now let me prepare your food, and we shall pray afterward.”

***

It was late morning, and the temple was filled to the brim with believers, their faces expectant as they gathered for a special moment.

Shiloh and the rest of the disciples assigned by the apostles to carry out the appointment had successfully fulfilled their mandate, and that morning, before the word of God was to be shared, the men were to be officially introduced to the gathering.

At the front of the assembly, Peter stood tall, his presence commanding yet warm. Beside him, seven men stood in a row, their expressions solemn yet humble.

Shiloh and his family stood among the crowd, watching with quiet satisfaction.

Peter lifted his hands for silence, and the murmuring ceased.

“Brothers and sisters,” he began, his voice steady and strong, “you know well the matters that have arisen among us. You have seen the disputes, the concerns, the divisions that threatened to weaken our fellowship, especially in matters of food distribution.” He looked across the gathered believers. “But we must all remember: we are one in Christ. And we must not allow discord to take root among us.”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd.

Peter turned slightly, gesturing to the men beside him. “After much prayer and deliberation, these seven men—men of good reputation, full of the Spirit and wisdom—have been chosen to oversee the daily distribution.”

Shiloh nodded approvingly. Yes, indeed. These men were well chosen.

The family had spared no expense in praying fervently for him and the other brethren, invoking the wisdom of God to guide them in choosing the men before them. The levels of peace and satisfaction that had settled in his heart after they finalized their choice was enough persuasion that these men were not merely their choice, but God’s choice.

Peter continued, “Stephen, Philip, Prochorus, Nicanor, Timon, Parmenas, and Nicolas—these men have been found worthy of the task before them. And so, we set them apart today to serve among you, that no widow, no brother, no sister may be overlooked. No more arguments. No more strife.”

His gaze swept across the assembly. “Brothers and sisters, I implore you by the mercies of God: support them. Pray for them. Encourage them in their work. For they do not serve tables alone—they serve the Lord.”

He then turned to the seven, his expression one of deep respect. The other apostles stepped forward, surrounding the chosen men. Together, they placed their hands upon them, and Peter lifted his voice in prayer.

“Lord God of Heaven, You have called these men to serve Your people. Fill them with wisdom, with strength, with grace. Let their hands be diligent in their work, and let their hearts remain pure before You. May they serve with joy, with humility, with love, that Your name may be glorified in all they do.”

A chorus of “Amen” swept through the crowd.

Shiloh exhaled, his heart swelling with gratitude. “This was right. This was good.”

Gedaliah glanced at him, his eyes shining. “The Lord is with us,” he whispered. 

He nodded. “Yes. And His work will not be hindered.”

As the believers rejoiced, as the seven men stepped forward to embrace their new calling, Shiloh and the family stood with full hearts, knowing that they had witnessed not just the settling of a dispute—but the strengthening of the church.

Yep, that was a quick and very essential fix to what could have been a pretty nasty division within the church…