Through the years I have heard friends long for community, especially in the post-college years.
It’s a deep human longing. We want to find others we connect with, can share our lives with, and lean on during times of struggle. It’s possible. For Christians, community is an expectation, not as something we create, but as something we receive, something we have been incorporated into through the bonds of faith.
That word, incorporate, how does it fit with the Christian understanding of community? The word incorporate came into use in the 14th century, and is Middle English. It is derived from the Latin incorporatus, past participle of incorporare. The Latin corpus means “body.” The prefix “in” means into, in, on, or upon. The form of the word, a past participle, is notable because it suggests something is accomplished, or done.
Thus, Christians do not create the body. The body, rather, is there. The mystery of redemption means there is a people who have been set apart, ready to receive us and to live life with us as the community of Christ. The saints—the members, if you prefer—do have a role. They edify the body.
Or, it might be better to say it this way: God, through his people, builds us up by grace through one another.
In Ephesians 4:11-13, Paul writes:
He himself granted that some are apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors and teachers to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until all of us come to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to maturity, to the measure of the full stature of Christ.
God gives gifts to those within the body of Christ to strengthen it. The members, having been incorporated into the body, are given work, responsibilities, and tasks. And as each carries out their respective tasks, the whole grows and matures “to the full measure of the stature of Christ.”
None of this happens overnight.
Community takes shape with:
Time
Trust
Triumph
Tragedy
Talent
Togetherness
Time and trust and talent and togetherness make intuitive sense when I’ve shared these elements with others. Relationships are built over time, trust strengthens when commitments are kept, talents (or gifts) are offered to the community in service, and togetherness in pursuit of a common end solidifies bonds.
But triumph and tragedy? I often tell people that for community to deepen and mature, “you need stuff to happen.” You need good things to celebrate. And while no one wishes for hardship to come, it does, and tragedy often reveals the ties that now bind us together, creates opportunities for service, and opens space for gratitude.
Community is formed as we walk side by side, as we engage one another face to face, and as we stand back to back. We journey together, converse together, and fight for one another, or lean on one another, during our times of trial.
Community is received. Then the gifts offered by Christ through the community turn recipients into participants, vessels through whom God continues to welcome new members into the community’s life. We are called beyond the status of recipients (or, worse, consumers) of the community, and transformed into members and extensions of it. This must be so if the community is to thrive, be built up, and grow toward maturity.
I once heard a story of a couple who moved to a city because they were told a church located there was “really great at community.” After a year, they were discontented by what they found, and chose to meet with one of the pastors in leadership. The pastor listened to their story. He asked, “How long have you been part of our life here?” They answered, “One year.” The pastor replied, “Then you have one year’s worth of community.”
One year’s worth of community doesn’t translate to an exact quantitative value. “Community” doesn’t deepen or widen or increase in constants. The body doesn’t grow and mature at a steady rate, and neither does the family of God. There are growth spurts and stabilization periods. Maturity takes place over time.
Switching metaphors—and moving from an organic image to a mechanical image—a richer, deeper, more flavorful community forms more along the timeline of a Crock-Pot meal rather than a microwaveable meal. You add the ingredients. You wait. If the mix is right, if you have patience, you have something that will satisfy you, something you can savor, and, even better, something you can share.
Book Notes
Still reading Ron Chernow’s Washington. I’ve begun James Bryan Smith’s latest book in The Apprentice Series, The Good and Beautiful You.
What will happen to Jim Smith if The Good and Beautiful You outsells The Good and Beautiful God?
Thus far, The Good and Beautiful You is still about God. But the focus is on toxic self-narratives, false stories we tell ourselves. These narratives must be rejected. In their place, we are called to adopt true stories in light of who God is, who God created humankind to be, and who humankind is redeemed to be in Christ. So, Jim will be okay. This book, so far, is more than okay. It’s good. I have quibbles here and there. But I’m thankful, once again, that Jim Smith has written another book I think will help people know and love God through Jesus.
I also began Jason Baxter’s The Medieval Mind of C. S. Lewis.
I finished reading Neal Stephenson’s Snow Crash and Stephen Macchia’s The Discerning Life: An Invitation to Notice God in Everything.
Sights and Sounds
I’ve seen it before, but I watched The Fifth Element (1997) this week.
About people, Leeloo (played by Milla Jovovich) observes, “Everything you create, you use to destroy.”
Bruce Willis, playing Korben Dallas, responds: “Yeah, we call it human nature.”
But in the end, what pushes back evil? Love. I like these kinds of movies, a perfect cocktail of zaniness, oddity, science fiction, mythology, and existential crisis.
At the time of this writing on Thursday evening, I have two tickets to see Top Gun: Maverick on IMAX. I haven’t been this excited about a movie in a long time.
My June playlist is up here.
Last Words
On the blog: I snapped a photo of a cartoon I spotted in the religion section of Recycled Books in Denton, Texas.
On my visit, I bought a Albert Schweitzer biography, a collection of sermon illustrations, a book on spiritual direction titled Abba, Give Me a Word, and David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest. I also picked up a Recycled Books bumper sticker, which I added to my sticker collage.
Before I go, standard copy.
If you are receiving this newsletter in your email inbox, great! If you are a reader who comes my way via social media but you'd like to subscribe, subscribe here.
Hit play on the tape with the appeal for social media followers, then: Facebook, Twitter, Instagram.
I’m not checking those accounts, but content does push there. If you use social media as your news feed, follow there. Share my stuff, if you like. Maybe those services are for you. They are not for me. I’ve been a happier and less anxious person since I quit checking social media.
Publishers consider social media numbers when extending offers or invites to write. Likes, follows, etc. help a person like me make their way. Lastly, subscribe to the blog by submitting your email to the "Updates to Your Inbox" form in the sidebar. We're at 1,387 across platforms. Help me get to 1,500+.
That's the business.
If you like this post, click the heart and kindly share it with others. If you’re coming my way because someone shared this with you, subscribe.
Be well this week. Bless others.
Best,
BAS
P.S. - I took the kids to work—we were down to one car with the Mustang in the shop, so they were stuck with me—and took a walk on campus after lunch at Penland. Here’s J.