I have emotional motion sickness; somebody roll the windows down. 

— Phoebe Bridgers

Distancing oneself from a toxic family member is a centuries-old survival tactic. Sometimes we all need a little, or a lot, of space.

“No contact” is a trendy tagline for making that distance both official and permanent. 

You can find oodles of articles, blogs and social media posts about no contact, but, according to Psychology Today, “no contact with a family member means cutting off the relationship, neither offering or allowing communication or interaction whatsoever.”

The article continues, “It is a decisive step taken to end physical, psychological or emotional suffering at the hands of an abusive sibling or other family member. As a tactic to protect oneself from continual hurt, it is generally the last resort.”

No contact, as a last resort, is supported by many trained, accredited psychologists and therapists. When someone decides to go no contact they often write a single, official letter telling their family member or members their decision and then implement prearranged plans, such as changing their email address, phone number and dismantling their social media.

When I first read about no contact, I was surprised at its calculating cruelty. The idea of telling someone that I’m not going to be in touch with them any more for MY health and well-being struck me as extremely selfish. What about what they were going through? 

What, after all, would be grounds for never speaking again to a relative or in-law? Physical battery or sexual abuse would justify no contact. But other than those extremes, can’t everything else be worked out through better communication and compromise?

In a healthy world, yes. In the real world, some people and patterns just don’t change, no matter how often they are confronted or asked. 

What is a Christian, who believes in unconditional love and eternal hope in God’s transforming power, supposed to do? Just accept damaging behavior at the cost of one’s own personal peace?

About a year ago, I received a letter that sat unopened on my table for a couple of days. The thought of revisiting the heavy emotions I knew the letter contained was overwhelming. It would be a burden lifted to throw the letter away, unread. 

When friends, co-workers or community members refuse or, more likely, aren’t capable of treating us as they ought, Christians are generally comfortable minimizing contact or even cutting them off entirely.

 But family is different. With family, Christians seem forced to crawl onto the hamster wheel of supposed sacrificial love. Turn the other cheek and walk the extra mile. Nobody is perfect, and we love each other no matter what. You can’t just turn your back; with God all things are possible.

Or my favorite: Be the bigger person.

The reality is that Christians can ask to be treated differently, but they can’t demand it. Family first.

I don’t think this holds up biblically. We know the story of when Jesus’ mother and brothers came and asked to talk with him. Instead of penciling them into his calendar, Jesus used the moment to make a stunning point that Christians breeze past because we just can’t quite believe it.

Instead of prioritizing family, which would have been assumed even more so in Jesus’ time than ours, Jesus prioritized the work of God.

I don’t think his lesson had anything to do with his actual mom or siblings. They represented a barrier, like money and power, that stands between us and God’s work in the world. 

Jesus reiterated the same concept when he rebuked the man for wanting to bury and mourn his father. 

We serve the false god of family all the time.

Recent surveys show that over 50% of people who chose no contact report that it adversely affected their life. The guilt and total loss of family relationships seem to be more detrimental to mental health than the original toxic family situation. Luckily, there is always the option of limited contact.

I did read that letter eventually. I read it once and then peacefully slipped it into the recycling bin. Removing the letter from my life was not a selfish act. Rather, I believe God has important, life-giving work for me to do, and I can’t do that good work if I’m suffocated in a relationship and situation I cannot change.

For the sake of God’s kingdom, Jesus asks us to be “the bigger person” to ourselves as well as others. This doesn’t make me a bad person. It makes me a good Christian.