A Theology of Community

It’s graduation party season. One can hardly drive down a street without seeing lines of cars, colorful balloons, and signs with 2015 stretched across driveways. I was driving to one yesterday in fact (Congratulations Josh and Andrew!) and the first thought that popped into my head was this: ‘It’s such a shame that parents have to go through the rigmarole of having an elaborate party just because it’s a social convention.’ The way I’ve always viewed social gatherings is that they are purely utilitarian. You have a birthday party to honor someone’s birth, give gifts, and have some cake. At a wedding shower you give gifts and play some party games. This kind of thinking has even influenced the way I look at church gatherings. Church events fall into some pretty well-defined categories:

1.           Sunday service – purpose: worshipping God, prayer, being edified by a sermon

2.           Prayer gatherings – purpose: prayer

3.           Outreaches- purpose: attracting and reaching non-believers

4.           Small groups- purpose: discipleship

Books such as Rick Warren’s The Purpose-Driven Church (and the student ministry focused Purpose-Driven Youth Ministry) have helped to shape my beliefs. I don't want to slander those needed and we'll-intentioned books but I think they've reinforced my own personal eccentricities. You see I've always been a bit awkward in social situations. I loathe small talk and honestly have always thought I communicated better I writing (you are the judge). I always wanted to be the quiet, introspective guy who said little but when he spoke, spoke with such profundity that he was always well-regarded. I think though I've just become a guy who doesn't talk.

I've always been a bit socially-averse. That is if you count wanting to "pull a Thoreau" as socially averse. Recently I was checking out these (http://www.relevantmagazine.com/slices/these-eco-friendly-tiny-house-pods-look-amazing) as a real option. All of this has shaped my life thus far. Lately though, I've been pondering the validity of my beliefs.

The Bible is a record of community. The history of the nation of Israel is one of festivals, remembrances, and celebrations (prescribed by God, nonetheless). Social interaction was not only a practical necessity in the context, but also instituted by the Lord. The lines between social life and religious life were blurred. Passover was as much a communal event as it was a religious one. The New Testament continues the trend of social interaction. Jesus engaged his audience at dinners and parties. The first disciples embraced the concept of communal living even further. Not limited by perceived notions of sacred and secular, they ate and prayed; they celebrated and sang; they served and they shared. So how did we end up in a climate where we are so compartmentalized and isolated? How did we end up where the social and the spiritual exist in completely separate worlds? I'm sure there are a lot of deep societal reasons (Western culture, technology, and travel among them) but what I am left contemplating is how to embrace a healthier level of engagement.

In reading Shauna Niequist on the topic (http://www.shaunaniequist.com/) I've been left unsettled by the level of disengagement I see in my own life. To be sure, we want our gatherings to be purposeful when they need to be. We should pray when we need to pray. We need to teach and to learn when the situation arises. We do need to make sure that we don't shy away from the spiritual to ensure that things don't get awkward or complicated. We need to engage. Perhaps, though, the line between purpose and pleasure needs to be bent. Perhaps we need to view community in less utilitarian terms. We need to take down the doors of our homes (probably not literally) and invite people in. It seems like that’s what Jesus did. 

I envy my friends who see this more clearly than I. Those who understand that there is value (to use my logical terms) in being around friends and family live a far healthier existence than I. Those who can see that surrounding oneself with others is not merely the setting but also the plot are getting something out of life that (if I'm honest) I'm not. A chef (or Shauna Niequist) might say that the sauce is as much a part of the meal as the meat. Perhaps, no, not perhaps, certainly, I have lost out on something by approaching life and faith piecemeal, taking the elements without embracing the whole community (even if it is awkward and messy).

The Worst Singer in the World

This morning during worship service at my church I sat in front of the absolute worst singer I’ve ever heard. Hardly a single note was on key. I’m not a particularly musical person myself but I feel like I can hold my own with my voice, such as it is, but this woman was rough. I had to fight back the urge to turn around and look her in the eyes. To be honest I didn’t want to match a face to the voice. I was already being pretty critical and I didn’t want to judge her every time I saw her. At one point I wasn’t even aware of the band or of the congregation singing. All that surrounded me was a sea of cringe-inducing vocal exercises. This woman was ruining my experience and disrupting my world

Lately I’ve been really troubled with the notion that Christians are brothers and sisters. See, I’m an only child without any cousins so I grew up in a very small circle of family. When I became a Christian and started getting acquainted with the rituals, routines, and eccentricities of church life I came to view gatherings as services. In an array of leadership capacities I learned to plan events and schedule the elements of worship: songs, prayers, sermons. Ingrained in me has been the desire to iron out the wrinkles and deficiencies. The wandering warbler sitting behind me was definitely a wrinkle.

It’s so easy to fall into an attitude of performance that takes us away from the truth of the matter: namely that believers in Christ are brothers and sisters in Christ. We are family. My lack of close family; of siblings, has always tripped me up in this regard. But the Bible repeatedly calls us to view each other in such terms. It is enmeshed in the language of the epistles. We have been adopted by the Lord into a family of aliens and strangers. We have been brought from a life of sin into a new life in Christ. Our old lives are dead and we live new lives in a new reality; a new family. We are not simply people who happen to be in the same place at the same time. How would we respond differently to our worship services if we could view them as family gatherings? How would we respond to our differences if we didn’t view our relationships as disposable but rather built upon the bonds of family? I have an inkling that we would be a little quicker to give each other grace; that we would be a bit more willing to gloss over arguments and controversies; that if we knew we had to live together at the end of the day we might be more inclined to talk to each other and really care about what our friends are saying--- because those are the things that you do for family--- or should. When the person in need is a brother or a sister or cousin, you go a little farther; you dig a little deeper; you sacrifice more to their benefit. If those are the things that are true of biological families how much more should that be true for those of us who follow Christ; who have chosen by our own wills to enter into a new family?

If I can see the person in the pew next to me as my brother; as one chosen and redeemed by Christ, then maybe I can bring myself to actually talk to him and actually care about what’s going on in his life instead of simply shaking his hand during ‘fellowship’ time. If I can see my pastor as a brother entrusted by God with particular skills and a particular calling, then maybe I won’t view him with cynicism and mistrust. If the teens in the back row aren’t just loud, annoying, and frustrating strangers but instead my sons and daughters, nieces and nephews then perhaps I can find it in myself to be a model for them, to give them the grace that Jesus gives them. If only I saw our worship services as family reunions rather than sterile exercise then maybe I’d feel less alone; maybe I’d be more willing to open myself up; maybe I could feel peace among friends. If only…

The song is ending. There is an acapella chorus. I am overwhelmed by the droning voice behind me. I turn to look my sister in the eye so I’ll never view her as a stranger again. If only I can see her as family then maybe I can sit through another song.