Do you remember where you were on February 22, 1980? Forty‑six years later to the day, as I watched the United States Olympic hockey team defeat Canada in the 2026 Winter Olympics Gold Medal Game, that memory came rushing back. I was sixteen, sitting on a couch in Ed and Viva Schwab’s home in Whitehall, Montana, watching what became known as the “Miracle on Ice,” when the U.S. beat Finland for the gold. In all the years since, the United States hadn’t won another Olympic hockey gold, so February 22, 2026, felt monumental.

Even as a kid in 1980, I remember how that game seemed to pull the whole country together. Chants of “USA! USA!” echoed across living rooms and out into snowy streets, as if the nation had found one shared voice. There was a pride in that team’s accomplishment that made those of us watching from our couches feel like we were part of something bigger.

Fast‑forward to 2026. As a much older kid who can still get swept up in an Olympic hockey game, I wondered whether that same sense of unity still existed. 

Then I listened to the young man—sporting a somewhat toothless smile after scoring the overtime “Golden Goal”—tell a reporter how proud he was to be an American, how honored he felt to represent his country. And in that moment, I realized we’re not the same nation we were back then. I found myself longing for what used to be.

Maybe it isn’t a hockey game that stirs that feeling in you, but many of us sense that something has been lost. We may come from different generations, yet we can all see how divided and polarized we’ve become. At times it feels as though the seams are pulling apart, as if things could break at any moment.

Recognizing the problem is one thing; finding a solution is another. And without a solution, it’s hard to keep the negativity from seeping into everything around us.

Perhaps we can take a cue from the United States Olympic hockey team. That 2026 roster was made up of players from 18 different NHL teams—athletes who spend most of the year trying their hardest to beat one another. Yet for the Olympics, they came together and played as one.

How? By focusing on a single goal. They set aside individual agendas and united around the prize: winning a gold medal for their country.

Setting hockey aside, the real question is: how we can nurture that same spirit of oneness in a divided world—and, maybe even more importantly, within our churches and our own hearts, where disunity can so easily pull us off course.

I’m reminded of another group of men, the disciples of Jesus. They came from different backgrounds, carried strong personalities, and often wrestled with rivalry and the desire to be seen as the greatest. That spirit surfaced throughout Jesus’ ministry, but nowhere more clearly than at the Last Supper, when self‑seeking and pride kept them from grasping what was about to unfold.

The irony is that the very thing they failed to understand because of their division would become the very thing that would unite them: the death and resurrection of Christ.

As we look to the cross and reflect on the death of Jesus, consider these words from the apostle Paul in Colossians 1:19–20 (NIV): “For God was pleased to have all His fullness dwell in Him, and through Him to reconcile to Himself all things. . . by making peace through His blood, shed on the cross.”

And again, in Ephesians 2:14–16 (NIV): “For He Himself is our peace, who has made the two groups one and has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility. . . . His purpose was to create in Himself one new humanity out of the two, thus making peace, and in one body to reconcile both of them to God through the cross.”

This peace—the unity brought about through the cross of Jesus—is a process that reaches its completion in the resurrection of Christ. As Romans 6:4b–5 (NIV) declares: “ Just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life. For if we have been united with Him in a death like His, we will certainly also be united with Him in a resurrection like His.”

This new life in the disciples stands in stark contrast to what they experienced before the cross. Acts 1:14 (ESV) describes them as “with one accord. . . devoting themselves to prayer, together with the women and Mary the mother of Jesus, and His brothers.” After the resurrection and ascension, this unity deepens even further: “All the believers were together and had everything in common” (Acts 2:44, NIV). The resurrection life of Christ reshaped their relationships, their priorities, and the way they lived together as His people.

This is exactly what Jesus prayed for His disciples—and for us today: “My prayer is not for them alone. I pray also for those who will believe in Me through their message, that all of them may be one, Father, just as You are in Me and I am in You. May they also be in Us so that the world may believe that You have sent Me” (John 17:20–21, NIV).

And with that prayer still echoing, I wonder if we need this prayer answered again today—in our hearts, in our churches, and in our world. The answer seems clear. And if this is true, if we truly desire to be one in Christ and with one another, then it is time for each of us to turn our eyes to the One who can draw us together—the One who endured the cross and who, as the risen Savior, still longs to answer that prayer.

Jack Hughes scored the winning—or golden—goal for the United States in the Olympic hockey final. Back in 2019, before he began his professional career, he had been asked to write a letter to his future self. Seven years later, one passage addressed to and about his brothers stands out: “Your brothers made you who you are on and off the ice. . . . Maybe we all represented the United States at the Olympics. . . . Maybe we won a gold medal (or gold medals) together. What an honor that would be.”

What if we were to write a letter to our future selves? Maybe, by then, we—as one body—will have represented the Kingdom of Christ faithfully to the world.

Maybe we will no longer be blown here and there by every wind of teaching or caught in the traps and snares so cleverly laid.

Maybe, instead, speaking the truth in love, we will have grown in every respect into the mature body of Him who is the head—Christ.

Maybe we will have run the race well, won the prize, and heard those long‑awaited words: “Well done, good and faithful servant.”