How do you define the word “Community”, and what does it mean to you?
Is it something simply convenient? A group that can be entered and exited with the seasons; or is it something deeper, something more intentional?
The answer is both, for me, lately. And I’m not sure that I like it…
There are groups to which I belong that serve a singular purpose, typically one that allows me to network or to gain skill at something, but one of which I can also freely leave without remorse at any given time. Take golf lessons, for example. Sure, I like the instructor and the people with whom I’m learning—and we have fun doing the things we’re there to do. But in reality, I don’t need to be there; I choose to because it helps me singularly gain skill at something that ultimately allows me to enjoy a hobby a bit more. Sometimes I’ll get lucky and meet people within the group that extend beyond the temporary, but most of the time it ends with, “Well, it was nice to meet you. Hit em’ straight and I’ll see you around.” The point being that we don’t always come together intentionally to form relationships; sometimes we come together to hone our own skills and then disband. Not in a malicious or uncaring way, but in a ‘that was fun, but I’m finished now’ way.
Then, there’s community. The place and people that feed me and that I feed in return. Not because I have to, or they have to, but because there’s something that inextricably binds us together: A common cause, a sense of purpose, a way of life.
Recently, those two types of community overlapped for me, and I learned something. It isn’t so much about which type of community we enter as it is about what we put into it. I could go to golf lessons and learn by myself without engaging others; I could be in it for me and be careless about those around me. But do they not have struggles, too? Or feelings? What if a few of them viewed me as a true friend, because they don’t have that in their normal lives? What if I’ve taken for granted the blessings of having a support system around me and simply chosen not to engage because I didn’t need anything from them? Sounds a little selfish, right?
I won’t name the community, but I will say that I just left it and have felt conflicted emotions over the ramifications of that choice. I realized that simply entering and exiting communities based upon my personal needs isn’t a Christian virtue, it’s more of a quid pro quo: You do this for me, I give you money, and we’re done here regardless of the others around us. That’s not community at all—it’s transactional living. I made some real connections with the people in the afore-mentioned group, without realizing how deep those connections impacted me. I chose to utilize my time there to grant escape and respite from ‘the real world’ and it turned out to be more work than I intended. Therefore, I left.
But the relationships I’d entered seemed to be a little deeper than I’d thought. Sure, the people will move on quickly and ‘miss me’ much the same as I will ‘miss them’, but we’ll all be fine. What does that mean? Does it mean that I didn’t give enough? Did I not take a moment to think about the transactional nature of this particular situation and then have the foresight to try and develop friendships rather than further my own agenda? That doesn’t seem to be the Christian way, either. If we’re only engaging people for what they can do for us, rather than for true connection, why even bother?
My point is this: Community—real community—shouldn’t have variations of worth. We’re either in it, or we aren’t. Church life can sometimes seem like a transactional community. We come in, pay our tithe, make our personal prayers, and leave. Transaction ended. But if we live by the example of Christ, shouldn’t we stick around and pay attention to those who are also there? What are the driving factors behind guiding us to Church—or any community for that matter? Do we miss opportunities to enrich the lives of others when we walk into situations simply concerned for ourselves?
As we’ve learned over the past few months, Church is more than just a building we visit. It’s a sense of belonging, a sense of relationship with God and neighbor. So, in that definition, isn’t there an implicit call for us to be with one another in all arenas? Can ‘Church’ also be held at AA? Yes. Is ‘Church’ present for us at the golf course? Yes. Does ‘Church’ happen online with people from around the country in chat rooms or forums? Yes.
Our free time is valuable, so we should seek to obtain as much value from it as possible. That’s one of the blessings of our local Church that enriches my life so deeply: People genuinely care for one another. Sure, we get angry from time to time and we need to step back from certain others for short periods, but overall, we’re a strongly knit group of faithful people who spread love and support by virtue of our beliefs. That doesn’t have to be contained solely within the confines of church life.
Take a look at the ‘communities’ to which you belong, this week. Why are you there? If it’s shallow, then how can you make it more meaningful both for yourself and those around you? What if every community we’re in becomes ‘Church’? Doesn’t that sound like the work we’ve been given to do, the life we’ve been called to lead? Loving our neighbor in every corner of our life rather than loving our neighbor on Sunday and Wednesday? If we all took time to see our neighbor as ourselves and love them in that way, then perhaps Church truly stops being an institution or a building, and starts becoming something…more. It starts to take over the world and offers a sense of belonging to everyone it encounters. We don’t have to pick people with whom we agree to have community. We simply have to choose to accept those with differing views and allow our own faith to guide us into a deeper understanding of one another, rather than a transactional and shallow relationship. We can’t live this life in silos, or its beauty will be diminished.
Take the resurrection community into all your other ones…see what happens. You might just change someone’s life.
And your own.
Faithfully,