Should Community Be a Non-Negotiable?

Justin Camp

Defenses high, a man approaches a door. He pauses for less than a second, then steps in. Seven men gather around a large conference table, engrossed in banter. The meeting hasn’t yet begun. “Hey!” One of the guys welcomes him. After handshakes and quick intros, the man slips into a seat at the table. He hunches down and begins rocking slightly and silently as the men gathered enjoy an easy camaraderie and wait for more to show.

Five more arrive and things get rolling. Jason, the leader of the group, opens with a prayer and leads the group into something he calls “Praise and Confession.” He encourages each man to offer praise to God (for something good that happened in the past week) and confession (of something not so good that each man did during the past week that he needs to get off his chest). Jeez. Really?

The exercise begins on the other side of the room — thankfully. As the man listens, feeling like it must be obvious that he’s the newest person to the group, it isn’t the praise items that surprise him; it’s the confessions. The men around him reveal things that people never do. They talk about things no one talks about. They don’t speak long but talk about real fears and real failures. They talk about sin — their own. They talk about alcohol and pornography and serious anger. Whoa!

His turn approaches, but he’s not too worried. He’ll get through it all right. He’s good at saying all the right things. But then he notices his heart rate begins to speed. Something unexpected wells up. It’s like he doesn’t want to fake it this time. Shoving that impulse down, he plays it safe. He talks about his kids and comes up with an incident where his temper was short. And when he’s done, he leans back and stops rocking. He listens to the last few men. He hears their words but retreats into his mind. Into his heart.

Something is happening.

It’s dawning on the man; even though he’s been here only a few minutes, he’s found something. Something important. Necessary. Something of tremendous value and power. Something he’s been searching and grasping for his entire life. He just never knew that this is what he’s been looking for all those years. But he knows now. And he somehow senses that this thing is probably going to be part of his life now, for the rest of his life.

That man was me. That was my first experience with true Christian community. And those moments in that conference room changed my life.

John Singleton Copley, 1738-1815, Watson and the Shark, 1778, oil on canvas — Wikimedia Commons

Let’s step back. Just for a moment, try to picture a world where everyone around you is kind, caring, encouraging and willing to help when you need help. Everyone. Spouses, family members, friends, acquaintances, colleagues, bosses, political leaders, presidents. They are for you. Picture a world where people are quick to try to understand, quick to apologize and quick to forgive. Imagine that everyone around you is healthy and thriving, fully who God made them to be, passionate about their work but with plenty of time for rest and fellowship and celebration. Imagine a world where people love God, where everyone is confident and pleased with who they are and each person works hard to love the people around them.

My friend, we don’t live in that world. We will. Rest assured, it’s coming. But our world today is quite a bit different.

Right now, there’s a darkness upon the earth. Open the news. Look around. The corruption. The atrocities. The hatred. The competition. The selfish cruelty. The callous brutality. All the killing. All the lying. All the godlessness. “The world has gone completely mad,” wrote John Eldredge. The details are different, but we are all hurting and hard-pressed. These are difficult days — days of fear and heartache and pain, natural disasters and injustice, disease and deceit, loneliness and longing.

This darkness is not physical, of course. It’s spiritual. Our collective curse — the curse of all ages since the Fall — is that the “whole world lies in the power of the evil one” (1 John 5:19). An enemy rules this world. An enemy who wants only to “steal and kill and destroy” (John 10:10). An enemy who wants nothing more than to pillage and plunder our hearts, our lives, and the entire world.

And he’s doing just that.

“The Bible is clear: We are meant to be together, to do life together, to care for one another, to be united with God and our brothers and sisters in Jesus.”

So, how do we stand against this darkness? Well, history can be a guide.

The safety net of the ancient world was the family, immediate and extended. It was the kinship system. The clan. The tribe. The village. To survive their own troublous times, people gathered together and relied on one another. They relied on parents. Siblings. Aunts and uncles. All manner of cousins and close friends.

Family units were a person’s support network. Those flesh-and-blood groups met physical, emotional and spiritual needs. They provided for basic physical and material well-being. They offered protection from dangers, both human and natural; a sense of belonging; and a layer of accountability.

It wasn’t a perfect system but it was much better than braving the darkness alone.

When Jesus arrived, though, everything changed. His ability to love and care far exceeded anything any human system could ever provide — even the strongest of families. Jesus came as a supercharged, supernatural need-meeter. People who came into contact with him got to experience up close how God keeps people safe. They got to see with their own eyes the way God loves, the way God cares. And they came away changed. With new energy and strength and faith. With hearts burning with love.

Then, one time, probably in the springtime, when he was in northern Israel, in Galilee, Jesus announced the arrival of a new kind of family: “For whoever does the will of God, he is my brother and sister and mother” (Mark 3:32–35).

Jesus took the idea of family to an entirely different place and a wholly new level. N. T. Wright called it an “alternative family.” It’s a supercharged support structure. A supernaturally strong safety net. One that can stand against any darkness — because God is the father in this one. He’s the head of this new kinship system. And it’s not only him. Jesus and the Holy Spirit are involved, too, and just as deeply.

This is the support network of the ancient family but turned up to a hundred. This is the Mediterranean clan but overflowing with the Father’s love, under the noble rule of Jesus, animated with the most potent force in the universe — the power that created stars and planets and every living thing, the power that conquered sin and death.

That is the power of Christian community, and it’s available now. Anyone and everyone gets to be a part of it now … if we want it.

If we want to, we can breathe a sigh of relief and finally accept Jesus’ assurances even in the midst of unspeakable dark: “Fear not”; “Do not be anxious about your life”; “Do not be anxious about tomorrow” (Matt. 10:31; 6:25; 6:34). We need not fear because we’re full members in good standing in his transcendentally fearsome surrogate family.

And this family has got our backs.

The Bible is clear: We are meant to be together, to do life together, to care for one another, to be united with God and our brothers and sisters in Jesus.

Don’t think community is not for you, my friend; you are not alone. None of us is ever alone. Not really. Rich, long-term community is available to each of us. We just need to bring our intentionality and creativity, our bravery and perseverance to the issue.

So, if you are willing, find a place where you’re unlikely to be interrupted. Turn off your notifications. Ask the Holy Spirit to direct your thoughts. And then, when you’re ready, close your eyes and pray:

“God, I need your help. I want to sense your voice. I want to know your will for me. Help me to build the community that you want for me. Please show me a face or two or three. Tell me a name. Who do you have in mind for me? Is there someone I already know? Is there someone I’ve been turning away? Or somebody new?”

Now, remain still for ten to twenty minutes. Again, don’t feel pressure to see specific things or hear particular names or think certain thoughts. Be open, and don’t be in a hurry. There is no urgency. Listen with your heart. Listen for an inner voice. If you struggle to hear, don’t be anxious. Don’t dwell on it. Just try again later.

If you think you might have seen a face or two or heard a name, respond to God:

God, help me approach community with courage, expectancy, and love as I follow your lead. Please tell me what I can do to pursue the friendships you want for me. What practical steps can I take to partner with you in building my community? Amen.

Embrace the silence for five to ten minutes longer, listening with your heart. Then, when you are done, remain in a quiet, prayerful state and consider these questions:

Starting today, will I lean into the relationships God’s just put on my heart?
What commitments am I willing to make around initiating connections among the relationships God has called me to?

For further exploration: