You hear a lot from me about community. Over the years, I have pointed to the centrality of community for Christian life. Indeed, when I first arrived here in 1994, I said that our first priority, after worship, would be to rebuild community in our congregation. Notice that "community" and "congregation" are not exactly synonymous! You might ask, isn't a congregation a community? Yes, in the sense that there is a common identity (belonging to the same church), but if that is as far as things go, such
"community" is extremely shallow and hardly meaningful. I would argue that with no more personal depth than people simply having a congregation in common, what's happening is more an "association" than real community.
So, what makes a congregation a true community? I think that the most important thing is to realize that Christian community does not depend on personal closeness, or even knowing each other personally. I admit that this is not the politically-correct thing to say these days (and it's not what most "experts" are saying about congregational life), but I'll
stand my ground. I'm speaking for a "discipleship" model of community, as opposed to a "social" model. Think about it. Yes, of course, "liking" each other and having personal things in common are desirable aspects of community, giving it particularly comfortable qualities. But, really, will that always be the case—and for everyone? And what happens when those assumptions don't hold up? I'll tell you: disengagement and broken community. A Christian community isn't built, in the first place, on having satisfactory social lives with one another, or agreeing with each other. And it isn't really sustained by that, either. Many people make such mistakes when sizing up their church-life and so they inevitably find themselves to be dissatisfied and let-down, or at least distracted and restless. No, sharing personal comfort levels isn't the basis of a Christian community. What builds and sustains Christian community is sharing common worship and ministry because you share common discipleship.
Some of the deeper and more meaningful qualities of congregational community arise from the dynamic of being personally and determinedly committed to people whether you know them/like them/agree with them or not. Many of the best pastoral moments at All Saints' have been when a newcomer or stranger has been overwhelmed in receiving some act of ministry and relationship, telling me "and they don't even know me!" or "they went to all that trouble for me and the only time we ever see each other is at church." Precisely. Furthermore, I've seen squabbles and hurt feelings healed by staying in worship and ministry together, and I've seen long-standing estrangements soothed when
one reached out to the other because the Gospel outweighed the grudge.
What all of this comes down to is that we are called, in our discipleship, to care for each other without regard to personal conditions. When one of our number needs support, you are there for him or her because you share discipleship here. (Maybe you are there because you don't know that person.) All other considerations—friendship, common interests, etc.—are icing on the cake. That "cake" is being the Body of Christ.
Of course, what I've described is the way Christians are called to respond to everyone, not just fellow parishioners. I've always liked the vision that our calling to each other applies all the more so to those who don't belong to our congregation. In fact, that is the goal of Christian presence and witness to the world. The means to that end is a strong community of people, built by knowing that they can count on each other just because they share the same table.
Faithfully,
Shannon+
