The gospel creates community. Because it points us to the One who died for his enemies, it creates relationships of service rather than selfishness. Because it removes both fear and pride, people get along inside the church who could never get along outside. Because it calls us to holiness, the people of God live in loving bonds of mutual accountability and discipline. Thus the gospel creates a human community radically different from any society around it.
Accordingly, the chief way in which we should disciple people (or, if you prefer, to form them spiritually) is through community. Growth in grace, wisdom, and character does not happen primarily in classes and instruction, through large worship gatherings, or even in solitude. Most often, growth happens through deep relationships and in communities where the implications of the gospel are worked out cognitively and worked in practically — in ways no other setting or venue can afford. The essence of becoming a disciple is, to put it colloquially, becoming like the people we hang out with the most. Just as the single most formative experience in our lives is our membership in a nuclear family, so the main way we grow in grace and holiness is through deep involvement in the family of God. Christian community is more than just a supportive fellowship; it is an alternate society. And it is through this alternate human society that God shapes us into who and what we are.
The Function of Community
It is natural to think of “community” as a category separate from evangelism and outreach or from training and discipleship or from prayer and worship. And of course, we have done this by calling it a distinct ministry front. But to do so can be misleading. Community itself is one of the main ways we do outreach and discipleship, and even experience communion with God.
Community and Our Witness
Community shapes the nature of our witness and our engagement in mission. The real secret of fruitful and effective mission in the world is the quality of our community. Exceptional character in individuals cannot prove the reality of Christianity. Atheism, as well as many other religions, can also produce individual heroes of unusual moral greatness. Though such individuals may inspire us, it is all too easy to conclude that these individuals are just that — extraordinary heroes who have set unattainable standards for the rest of us. What atheism and other religions cannot produce is the kind of loving community that the gospel produces. In fact, Jesus states that our deep unity is the way the world will know that the Father sent him and has loved us even as the Father has loved him (John 17:23). Jesus says that the main way people will believe that Christians have found the love of God is by seeing the quality of their life together in community.
To be faithful and effective, the church must go beyond “fellowship” to embody a counterculture, giving the world an opportunity to see people united in love who could never have been brought together otherwise, and showing the world how sex, money, and power can be used in life-giving ways:
• Sex. We avoid both secular society’s idolization of sex and traditional society’s fear of sex. We also exhibit love rather than hostility or fear toward those whose sexual life patterns are different from ours.
• Money. We promote a radically generous commitment of time, money, relationships, and living space to social justice and the needs of the poor, the immigrant, and the economically and physically weak. We also must practice economic sharing with one another so “there are no needy persons among us.”
• Power. We are committed to power sharing and relationship building among races and classes that are alienated outside of the body of Christ. One practical evidence of this is that we need to be as multiethnic a body as possible.
Western believers usually think we show Christlikeness through our individual lives as believers. But it is just as important to exhibit Christlikeness through our corporate life together.
Community and Our Character
Community shapes the development of our character. In a classroom relationship, students and teachers have contact with one another primarily at the level of the intellect. The teacher and his students do not live together, eat together, or have much additional contact with one another socially, emotionally, or spiritually. We do not find a classroom relationship between Jesus and his students, nor did his students relate this way with one another. Instead, he created a community of learning and practice in which there was plenty of time to work out truth in discussion, dialogue, and application. This example suggests we best learn and apply what we are learning in small groups and among friends, not in academic settings alone.
Our character is mainly shaped by our primary social community — the people with whom we eat, play, converse, counsel, and study. We can apply all of the “one another” passages of the Bible to this aspect of Christian community. We are to honor (Rom 12:10), accept (Rom 15:7), bear with (Eph 4:2; Col 3:13), forgive (Eph 4:32; Col 3:13), pray for, and confess sins to one another (James 5:16). We are to cheer and challenge (Heb 3:13), admonish and confront (Col 3:16; Gal 6:1 – 6), warn (1 Thess 5:14), and teach one another (Rom 15:14; Col 3:16). We are to stop gossiping and slandering (Gal 5:15) or being fake (Rom 12:9) with one another. We are to bear burdens (Gal 6:2), share possessions (Acts 4:32), and submit to one another (Eph 5:21). In short, there is no more important means of discipleship — of the formation of Christian character — than deep involvement in the life of the church, the Christian community.
Community and Our Behavior
Community shapes our ethics and the spoken and unspoken rules that guide our behavior. Far more of the biblical ethical prescriptions are addressed to us as a community than as individuals. The Ten Commandments were given to Israel at Mount Sinai to form them into an alternate society that would be a light to the nations. The call of Romans 12:1 – 2 to “offer your bodies as a living sacrifice” is usually interpreted as a call to individual consecration, but it is actually a demand that we commit ourselves to a corporate body and not live as autonomous individuals any longer. All of Romans 12, in fact, should be read as a description of this new society. In the same way, Jesus’ call for his followers to be a “town built on a hill” (Matt 5:14) means we must read the entire Sermon on the Mount as a description of this new community, not simply as ethical guidelines for individual believers. Most of the ethical principles or rules in the Bible are not simply codes of behavior for individuals to follow; they are descriptions of a new community that bears the spiritual fruit of love and holiness.
But this should not surprise us. It is really just common sense. Why? Because we all know by experience that it is far harder to live godly lives as individuals. Unless we make ourselves accountable to someone, we will repeatedly slip up and fall away. In addition, many of the ethical prescriptions of the Bible seem maddeningly general — not specific enough to directly address our particular situation. But this is because Jesus expected us to determine how to apply these teachings as a community. Take, for example, the numerous warnings against greed in the New Testament writings. Unlike adultery, which is clear and obvious, greed is harder to define. Who is to say when we are spending too much money on ourselves? Greed is so insidious that unless we talk with other Christians about it, we will never see it in ourselves. The battle against these sinful habits and idolatrous affections is best worked out in community. Not only can a body of people, pooling their wisdom and experience, come up with culturally appropriate markers and signs of biblical sins such as greed and ruthlessness in business, but the community can more effectively hold itself to live consistently with its beliefs.
Community and Growing to Know God Better
Community is the key to true spirituality as we grow to know God by learning to know one another in relationships. In a famous passage, C. S. Lewis describes a very close friendship between himself, Charles Williams, and Ronald Tolkien (better known as J. R. R. Tolkien). After Charles Williams died, Lewis made this observation:
In each of my friends there is something that only some other friend can fully bring out. By myself I am not large enough to call the whole man into activity; I want other lights than my own to show all his facets. Now that Charles is dead, I shall never again see Ronald’s reaction to a specifically Caroline joke. Far from having more of Ronald, having him “to myself ” now that Charles is away, I have less of Ronald. Hence true Friendship is the least jealous of loves. Two friends delight to be joined by a third, and three by a fourth . . . We possess each friend not less but more as the number of those with whom we share him increases. In this, Friendship exhibits a glorious “nearness by resemblance” to Heaven . . . For every soul, seeing Him in her own way, communicates that unique vision to all the rest. That, says an old author, is why the Seraphim in Isaiah’s vision are crying “Holy, Holy, Holy” to one another (Isa 6:3). The more we thus share the Heavenly Bread between us, the more we shall all have.1
Lewis’s point is that even a human being is too rich and multifaceted a being to be fully known one-on-one. You think you know someone, but you alone can’t bring out all that is in a person. You need to see the person with others. And if this is true with another human being, how much more so with the Lord? You can’t really know Jesus by yourself.
Churchly Piety and “Ecclesial Revivalism”
Christian community, then, is perhaps the main way we bear witness to the world, form Christlike character, practice a distinctively Christian style of life, and know God personally. But we must make it clear that we are not speaking merely of informal and individual relationships between Christians but also of membership and participation in the institutional church, gathered under its leaders for the preaching of the Word and the administering of the sacraments of baptism and the Lord’s Supper.2 The preaching of the Word by those gifted, prepared, and authorized by the church to do so, and participation in the Lord’s Supper — with all the self-examination and corporate accountability this brings — are critical and irreplaceable ways that Christian community provides witness, spiritual formation, and communion with God.
An old term that summarizes a Christian’s life, practice, and spirituality is piety. For the past 250 years, there has been a steady move away from a focus on churchly piety toward more individualistic, private piety. Churchly piety puts the emphasis on corporate processes — baptism, submission to the elders and pastors, catechesis in the church’s historical confessions, admission to membership, public vows and profession of faith, gathered worship, sitting under the preaching of the Word, regular partaking of the Lord’s Supper, and involvement in mission through the church’s denominational agencies. Today, however, most evangelical churches stress individualistic piety, which emphasizes private devotions and spiritual disciplines, small group fellowship (with little or no elder oversight), personal witness and service, and participation in many broadly evangelical cooperative ventures.
Historians often trace this shift back to the revivals and awakenings of the eighteenth century and thereafter. As we have said, revivalists believed it was possible for baptized church members to be unconverted and to be relying on their place in the church for their salvation rather than relying on Christ and his finished work. So they (rightly) called people to self-examination, repentance, and conversion. But when revivalists spoke to people in that way, they weakened (in their minds) the necessity of the church. The revivalist insight led to an overemphasis on direct experience and on self-accreditation. “Who needs the church,” many thought, “when I am the judge of whether I’m a Christian or not?” For many, the church became an option, an afterthought, rather than the heart of how Christians live their lives.
Earlier I explained that there are indeed real dangers if revivalistic, individual piety becomes excessive. Historian John Coffey notes that revivalism historically encouraged exchanging robust theological confessionalism for a doctrinal minimalism; stressed heart experience over formal churchmanship; de-emphasized sacramental routine for crisis decisions; downgraded the ideal of a learned ministry for populist, simplistic preaching; and shed careful theological exegesis in light of the wisdom of the past for naive biblicism.3 Out of the revivals of the past has come the individualistic piety of the present day.
This is natural, for it is common to go to the opposite extreme in a well-intentioned effort to make a correction. Nineteenth-century Princeton Reformed theologians such as Archibald Alexander and Charles Hodge took a balanced approach to this issue. On the one hand, they were keenly aware of the dangers of revivalism and stressed the importance of churchly piety. Hodge leveled a sustained critique of Charles Finney’s version of revivalism. On the other hand, Hodge was also critical of John Williamson Nevin, who (he believed) overreacted to revivalism in his particular emphasis on the sacraments.4 As can be seen in Alexander’s Thoughts on Religious Experience and Hodge’s The Way of Life, they accepted the basic insights of revivalism, following Jonathan Edwards in his writings on how to discern true spiritual experience; yet they put the church at the center of Christian formation and life.5
I have coined the term ecclesial revivalism to describe the balance Alexander and Hodge proposed. How can we combine the insights of revivalism with ecclesial practices in the church’s ministry today?
1. Preach for conversion yet honor communicant status. One of the ways the Princeton theologians kept the balance can be seen in the way they preached for conversion and honored the membership status of believers in the church. Princeton ministers preached that it is possible to mentally subscribe to the doctrines of sin and grace without actually putting heart trust in them and being converted. Conversion, they said, always entails some heart conviction of the sin of works-righteousness and some heart enjoyment of grace in response to a presentation of the gospel of grace — this is “justifying faith.” They directed that Christians should not be admitted to the church, nor baptized children to the Lord’s Supper, without an experience of conversion and saving faith. They called existing church members to examine themselves, but they would never declare an individual member unregenerate unless through heresy or moral lapse they came under discipline. If the church had received a person as a member, it was not the place of any individual (other than that person himself) to make a counterdeclaration.
This was an important balance. The Princeton theologians let communicant members know that, under the clear preaching of the gospel, they might come to the conclusion that they had never trusted in Christ savingly but had only been full of “dead works.” However, unlike some revivalists, they would never rebaptize a communing member. They would consider such an act too subjective and individualistic. They might say, “You may have a time of spiritual declension and an even greater spiritual renewal sometime in the future. Will you get baptized a third time?” They would direct the person to ground their assurance in both their experience and their participation in the church community and the sacraments. They would say, “You had baptism; now you have an experience of conversion. If you see signs of the fruit of the Spirit growing in you, you can rest assured you are his.”
2. Examine candidates for membership. How can we examine people with regard to their Christian experience in such a way that avoids the extremes of formalism and revivalism? Don’t insist (1) that everyone has to identify a moment or time in which they were converted, (2) that everyone must have a conversion experience that follows a particular pattern, or (3) that everyone must have a conversion with the same level of experiential and emotional intensity. This is the mistake of overly enthusiastic revivalists. Furthermore, don’t look strictly at stated beliefs. Instead, look for gospel beliefs that take “spiritual illumination” to appreciate and grasp. Do they have a view of their sin that goes beyond simply behavior and recognizes idolatry, self-righteousness, and other such sins of heart and motive? Did they have a time in which they realized more clearly that salvation is by Christ’s work, not theirs? And be sure to look for spiritual “whole-life effect.” There should be something more than mere doctrinal subscription and ethical conformity. There should be some sense in the heart of peace and joy. There should be some growth in love. Nevertheless, we should not preclude people who can thoughtfully profess gospel faith and promise gospel living, even if their temperament shows no great emotion. We also must beware of insisting that people of other cultures conform to our patterns.
This balance is seen in the early Princeton theologians with regard to the way in which they treated baptized children within the church. These theologians understood that baptized children were (1) united to the church through the vows of their parents and therefore accountable to live as Christians and (2) recipients of God’s grace in the life of the family through the sacrament. But they exhorted children to put their faith in Christ and counseled them about what conversion looks like. Archibald Alexander taught that children growing up in the church usually had a series of “religious impressions” over the years, and it was hard to tell which ones were spiritual preparation, which one was conversion, and which ones were deeper growth and commitment. But they described to children the conviction of sin and grace that was necessary for being admitted to the Lord’s Supper.6 They looked for a credible profession of faith, rather than simply admitting any child who completed church instruction.
3. Recover catechesis. In the Apostolic Tradition, attributed to Hippolytus, we learn that in the early church, conversion was seen as a journey with several stages. First, seekers were admitted to instruction as catechumens. They were given instruction several times a week in basic Christian worldview and ethics. Second, when inquirers became believers, they became baptismal candidates and were admitted to a new course of instruction leading up to public baptism. They were now seen as believers who had not yet been admitted to the community. The baptismal instruction seems to have emphasized orthodox theology and an understanding of the church and its ministry. Third, after baptism, the new member might receive additional instruction in the practical issues of living and working as a believer in a pagan world.
This ecclesial, corporate approach conceives of spiritual formation as a journey with public, communally celebrated milestones that entail water, food and drink, music, and joy. These milestones are baptism, the Lord’s Supper, weddings, and funerals. Unlike modern individualistic ministry models that offer short-term events, intensive classes, and programs, catechesis was much different. It was much more communal, participatory, and physically embodied. The seekers met regularly with one another and with Christian instructors. The baptismal candidates met with one another and Christian teachers and sponsors. Memorization and recitation slowed the process and “drilled in” the theology and practice of the church. It brought about greater life change and more solid assimilation into the church than most contemporary seminars and programs can.
In Grounded in the Gospel, J. I. Packer and Gary Parrett urge contemporary Christians to restore catechetical instruction to the life of the church.7 They argue for training people by using three ancient and biblical summaries — the Apostles’ Creed (belief), the Ten Commandments (practice), and the Lord’s Prayer (experience). They urge that the process be long-term rather than compressed. They make the case for a process that is not merely formal (classroom instruction) but nonformal and informal. That is, it should incorporate practical experience and include many opportunities for developing personal relationships with mature church members. Most important of all, catechesis incorporates instruction and discipleship with the public worship and life of the whole church. In ancient times, seekers, catechumens, candidates for baptism, and new members were all recognized and prayed for in public worship.
4. Recognize that seekers need process. The success of the Alpha course and other similar courses such as Christianity Explored showed the need for a shift from the mid-twentieth-century’s prominent modes of evangelism. Crusade evangelism and various personal evangelism methods (e.g., Campus Crusade’s LIFE training, using the Four Laws; Evangelism Explosion) were neither communal nor process oriented. They assumed some background knowledge of the Christian faith. The Alpha course was more in the mode of catechesis and began to show that, as the Western world became more pagan, evangelism had to follow the pattern of the early church. Seekers today need to not only get a body of content but also see Christianity embodied in individuals and a community. They need a long time to ask questions and build up their knowledge of the (now very alien) Christian gospel and worldview. As I argued in the previous chapter, it is possible in most cultures today to make the worship service itself part of this process so nonbelievers find the services to be places where their interest and faith can be nursed and grown. Indeed, this is vital to merging the revivalist and the ecclesial. Most ecclesial churches do not think of their corporate worship as evangelistic, while most seeker-oriented churches do not think their seeker services can be theologically rich and spiritually edifying to Christians. We need evangelistic sermons that edify, as well as edifying sermons that evangelize. Supplementing the evangelistic worship must be a great variety of groups, events, and processes by which non-Christians can be introduced to the Christian faith.
5. Realize that baptism and reception of members can become much more instructive and a bigger part of worship. Contemporary people will expect brief, intensive procedures they can fit into their fast-changing schedules. Nevertheless, there should at least be a great deal of instruction leading up to any adult baptism. Consider requiring all baptismal candidates to complete a doctrinal course on the Apostles’ Creed, the Lord’s Prayer, and the Ten Commandments. Also, look for ways that candidates for baptism can be publicly recognized (as in the early church). Seek testimonies of changed lives from new converts who are being instructed and preparing for baptism, even though they haven’t yet been baptized. Doing so will highlight to the congregation the importance of the process and also encourage seekers in the congregation to “close with Christ.” If your church baptizes infants or has a service of dedication for newborns, consider creating a much more comprehensive process of instructing families in family spiritual formation and discipleship before the rite. In general, we could do a far better job of instructing the congregation on how baptism and membership are milestones in our spiritual journeys.
6. Use the anticipation of the Lord’s Supper as a springboard for a season of preparation. A pastoral practice used in some churches that do not have weekly Communion is calling the congregation to brief, focused seasons of preparation. I used to do this at my church in Hopewell, Virginia, where the Lord’s Supper was observed only quarterly. For a week or two, as I preached, I asked the church to think about a key area of Christian practice. For example, we might think about our relationships — the need for forgiveness and reconciliation — leading up to Communion Sunday. Everyone was urged to consider whether they should reconcile with anyone in a Matthew 5:23 – 24 or Matthew 18:15 – 17 process. The elders and pastors sometimes would visit the families leading up to the Communion season. Obviously visitation is not always feasible at a large, mobile, urban church, but even this kind of congregation can run classes or have their small groups study a topic and do self-examination regarding specific issues. Sometimes a church can use the period before the Lord’s Supper for a time of covenant renewal.
The possibilities are many. But at the end of the day, not many churches combine the power of revivalist preaching and pastoring with ecclesial patterns of church life. Indeed, most people who are strong in one area define themselves over against Christians in the other camp, which makes it harder to incorporate both insights in a healthy way.
The Gospel and Community
Building community is no longer natural or easy under our present cultural conditions. It requires an intentionality greater than that required of our ancestors, and it is uncomfortable for most of us. But our weapon is the gospel itself.
In his classic book Life Together, Dietrich Bonhoeffer grounds Christian fellowship solidly in the gospel of justification by faith:
The Reformers expressed it this way: Our righteousness is an “alien righteousness,” a righteousness that comes from outside of us . . .
God permits [Christians] to meet together and gives them community. Their fellowship is founded solely upon Jesus Christ and this “alien righteousness.” All we can say, therefore, is: the community of Christians springs solely from the biblical and Reformation message of the justification of man through grace alone; this alone is the basis of the longing of Christians for one another . . .
Without Christ we . . . would not know our brother, nor could we come to him. The way is blocked by our own ego.8
How does this work? Our natural condition under sin is to be “glory empty” — starved for significance, honor, and a sense of worth. Sin makes us feel superior and overconfident (because we are trying to prove to ourselves and others that we are significant) and inferior and under-confident (because at a deep level we feel guilty and insecure). Some people’s glory emptiness primarily takes the form of bravado and evident pride; for others, it takes the form of self-deprecation and self-loathing. Most of us are racked by both impulses. Either way, until the gospel changes us, we will use people in relationships. We do not work for the sake of the work; we do not relate for the sake of the person. Rather, we work and relate to bolster our own self-image — to derive it, essentially, from others. Bonhoeffer reminds us that the way to transparency, love, and mutual service is “blocked by our own ego.”
But when the gospel changes us, we can begin to relate to others for their sakes. It humbles us before anyone, telling us we are sinners saved only by grace. But it also emboldens us before anyone, telling us we are loved and honored by the only eyes in the universe that really count. So we are set free to enjoy people for who they are in themselves, not for how they make us feel about ourselves. Our self-image is no longer based on comparisons with others (Gal 5:26; 6:3 – 5). We do not earn our worth through approval from people or through power over people. We are not overly dependent on the approval of others; nor, on the other hand, are we afraid of commitment and connection to others. The gospel makes us neither self-confident nor self-disdaining but gives us boldness and humility that can increase together.
Strong community is formed by powerful common experiences, as when people survive a flood or fight together in a battle. When they emerge on the other side, this shared experience becomes the basis for a deep, permanent bond that is stronger than blood. The more intense the experience, the more intense the bond. When we experience Christ’s radical grace through repentance and faith, it becomes the most intense, foundational event of our lives. Now, when we meet someone from a different culture, race, or social class who has received the same grace, we see someone who has been through the same life-and-death experience. In Christ, we have both spiritually died and been raised to new life (Rom 6:4 – 6; Eph 2:1 – 6). And because of this common experience of rescue, we now share an identity marker even more indelible than the ties that bind us to our family, our race, or our culture.
Peter writes to the church, “As you come to him, the living Stone — rejected by humans but chosen by God and precious to him — you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house” (1 Pet 2:4 – 5). Like stones that have been perfectly shaped by the mason, the builder lays each block next to the other, and they interlock into a solid, beautiful temple. When we speak to others who know God’s grace, we can recognize that their identity is now rooted more in who they are in Christ than in their family or class. As a result, Christ has created a connection that can surmount the formerly insurmountable barriers to our relationships.
We often think of community as simply one more thing we have to follow in the rules of behavior. “OK, I have to read my Bible, pray, stay sexually pure — and I need to go to fellowship.” But community is best understood as the way we are to do all that Christ told us to do in the world. Community is more than just the result of the preaching of the gospel; it is itself a declaration and expression of the gospel. It is the demonstration of the good news of freedom in Christ through the evident display of our transformed character and our life together. It is itself part of the good news, for the good news is this: This is what Christ has won for you on the cross — a new life together with the people of God. Once you were alienated from others, but now you have been brought near (Eph 2:12 – 13).
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
1. Keller writes, “The essence of becoming a disciple is, to put it colloquially, becoming like the people we hang out with the most.” Does this describe your own experience? How has the community you belong to uniquely shaped and directed your own growth as a Christian? Whom should you hang out with more often?
2. Keller writes, “Exceptional character in individuals cannot prove the reality of Christianity . . . What atheism and other religions cannot produce is the kind of loving community that the gospel produces.” Consider your Christian witness as a community. What are some of the ways your church community lives and relates to one another in distinctly Christian ways? How are you a witness to the surrounding culture?
3. Keller writes, “Churchly piety puts the emphasis on corporate processes — baptism, submission to the elders and pastors, catechesis in the church’s historical confessions . . . Today, however, most evangelical churches stress individualistic piety, which emphasizes private devotions and spiritual disciplines, small group fellowship (with little or no elder oversight), personal witness and service, and participation in many broadly evangelical cooperative ventures.” Which version of piety is most commonplace in your church? Which of the following suggestions for a balanced “ecclesial revivalism” are most helpful to you?
• Preach for conversion, yet honor communicant status.
• Develop a way of examining candidates for membership.
• Recover catechesis so it is communal, participatory, and physically embodied.
• Recognize that seekers need a process that is both evangelistic and theologically edifying.
• Use the baptism and reception of members to instruct and disciple.
• Use the anticipation of the Lord’s Supper as a springboard for a season of preparation focused on covenant renewal.