CHAPTER 3

THE CREATURE IN COMMUNITY

True friendship calls you out of the darkness of personal privacy into the loving candor of mutual concern. It moves you from being a sealed envelope to being an open letter.

~ Paul Tripp1

“Personal relationship with Jesus Christ . . .”

This phrase is used countless times each weekend when churches gather for worship across the United States and around the world. And while such wording is helpful in describing the intimacy of our fellowship with God, it is only part of the truth—because it neglects the reality that God’s design is for believers to be deeply connected in community with other followers of Christ. If not carefully explained, this phrase could give the impression that the Christian faith is private—“just between you and God.” For while our faith is indeed very personal, it is definitely not private. Private Christian faith is an oxymoron, like “white chocolate,” “jumbo shrimp,” and “ACC football.” (Sorry.)

You have been individually saved by Christ, but you are not the only individual saved. God has always been building a people for Himself—a family of faith that unites across the dividing lines of race, nationality, politics, and economics. God Himself exists in community as Father, Son, and Spirit. And out of that divine community flows His design for humans to be involved in relationships with each other. He started with Adam and Eve, progressed to the nation of Israel, and now has established and is building His Church. Every tribe, tongue, nation, ethnicity, and socioeconomic status come together in this covenant body, declaring the praises of God and making much of Jesus Christ.

Since the day Adam searched for a suitable helper, people have always longed for community. So it would seem our era is a great one in which to live, seeing as how connectivity is so much easier now than it’s ever been. Facebook currently claims more than 900 million active users who visit their social networking site at least once a month. Thanks to Twitter, we can constantly bombard each other with even the most boring details of our everyday lives. You can take a picture of the sampler you ordered at Applebee’s, and then tweet it to all your friends so they can be jealous of your potato skins. Technology has enabled humanity to be more connected, more informed, and more social than at any other time in history.

But connectivity does not equate to community. Being able to make quick connections with people doesn’t automatically require any depth to the relationship.

All you have to do is take a look inside your local Starbucks to see something strange going on in the midst of all these “connections.” Starbucks was founded to be a gathering place for relationships. Sure, they serve a million combinations of coffee and pastries, but it was also intended as a place where people could get their coffee not “to go” but to stay. And stay together. Starbucks was built to capitalize on the intrinsic human desire to relate.

But as you look into your local Starbucks, notice that many people are in there—together in one place—but they’re also alone. They’re sitting at tables with their headphones on, working on their computers or fiddling with their phones. Not that it’s the fault of Starbucks. This “all alone, all together” phenomenon is merely symptomatic of what’s at play in human relationships throughout our culture.

So although we are more connected than we’ve ever been, we also feel more alone and unknown than at any other time in human history. We relate without relationships, all together but all alone. Thus, without the gospel forming community, we are doomed to connectivity and aloneness in the midst of crowds. Only the gospel forms deep community.

Gospel Forms Community

Paul wrote the book of Philippians as an encouraging letter to believers who were in community only because of the gospel. The Lord had formed a beautiful community among them by His grace, which is why Paul was confident they would continue to grow and mature “until the day of Christ Jesus” (1:6 NIV)—because of their “partnership in the gospel” (1:5 NIV).

But who were these people who were partners in the gospel? Acts 16 gives us a snapshot, as it records the apostle Paul’s first visit to Philippi and the responses of people there to the good news of Jesus.

One of them was a woman named Lydia, who was a dealer in purple cloth, a high-end material for the wealthy. Lydia was evidently the kind of prominent, savvy businesswoman who today might travel first-class, enjoy expensive meals on her corporate card, and entertain with affluent colleagues. Yet her high-end lifestyle could never quite quench the deep longings of her soul. When she heard the good news of Jesus and His grace, she responded in faith.

But her next actions revealed something else about her, as well as the nature of the early church. She intrinsically knew that her faith was not private. She persuaded Paul and his companions to stay at her house while they shared the gospel in Philippi. Many scholars believe the church at Philippi met at her house.

The next person converted was a demon-possessed slave girl who made money for her owners by telling people their future. (Although the text does not explicitly mention the word conversion, we believe that the passage’s context clearly implies that she was converted.) For many days, this girl had been following Paul while the spirit within her kept crying out, “These men are servants of the Most High God, who are telling you the way to be saved” (Acts 16:17 NIV). Paul allowed this irritation to continue for a while, but finally he’d had enough, and in the name of Christ demanded the evil spirit to leave the girl. “And it came out right away” (v. 18 HCSB).

This girl was most likely a runaway who had sold herself into slavery for food and bare essentials. She had a rough past, had seen more than a young girl should ever see, and was deeply wounded from her brief life history. But in Christ, she found healing—One who loved her regardless of her past. Good for her.

Her transformation, however, was not so good for her owners’ business model. They were livid because of her conversion, knowing they wouldn’t be making money off her anymore. So they dragged Paul and Silas to the authorities, who ordered that they be beaten and thrown into prison—the whole mob joining in the attack. In prison they were monitored heavily by one specific guard, a guy the authorities must have trusted because of his ability to follow orders and execute tasks. He was the hardworking, blue-collar type from the south side of town. He was a good family man when he wasn’t cuffing criminals.

In prison, around midnight, as Paul and Silas were praying and singing out loud, God caused an earthquake to occur, that shook the prison violently, causing the shackles to fall off the prisoners’ wrists and ankles and the doors to fly open. This particular guard who had been made personally responsible for Paul and Silas’s confinement drew his sword to kill himself, thinking they had escaped, knowing he would be in serious trouble with his supervisors for letting them get free. But Paul yelled out to him, “We’re here! Don’t harm yourself!” Amazed by their fearless faith and the power of their God, the man fell down trembling before them, asking, “What must I do to be saved?” He and his entire family became Christians that night, trading their insufficient goodness for God’s all-surpassing goodness.

So the little growing church in Philippi was now home to people like this: a wealthy, upscale businesswoman whose material success could never satisfy her; a slave girl with a deep, dark, wounded past; a tough-nosed jailer and his family, just to mention the few we know. So ask yourself: What else did these people have in common but the gospel? They never would have gone to the same restaurants, hung out in the same parts of town, or listened to the same music. But because God had radically transformed them, they shared a common bond deeper than anything that divided them. They were together only because of the gospel.

The gospel by its very nature forms community. D. A. Carson writes:

The church is . . . made up of natural enemies. What binds us together is not common education, common race, common income levels, common politics, common nationality, common accents, common jobs, or anything else of that sort. Christians come together . . . because they have all been saved by Jesus Christ. . . . They are a band of natural enemies who love one another for Jesus’ sake.2

Believers, as we know, have different careers, different political viewpoints, different parenting philosophies, different economic status, and different cultural backgrounds. We are different in many, many ways. Yet we are still drawn together in the body He calls the Church. Unity in the gospel is much deeper than surface uniformity.

The reason most community is shallow in our world is because it’s built on temporary foundations. The reason most relationships don’t last is because they’re built on commonalities that change over time. When the common bond changes, the relationship changes.

If you’re married, you see this happen immediately when you have kids. You once had friends you would hang out with late at night, but now you can’t do that. Even if you get a babysitter, you’re not staying up till 1:00 in the morning, because your kids are waking up at 6:30 and you’ll be exhausted.

If you play sports with a group of guys, and if nothing deeper than your love of basketball binds you together, that community will weaken and likely disappear if you blow out a knee and can’t play anymore. If relationships aren’t built on something deeper than finding good restaurants, working at the same company, or having kids in the same activities, they will change whenever the common bond is no longer there. Community is only as strong as what it’s built upon.

And nothing is as strong as the gospel.

The gospel is the deepest foundation for community. What connects believers is the reality that we were all very messed-up people, broken before a holy God, yet rescued and given new life in Christ. What unites believers is deeper than anything that can divide.

The Christmas Truce of 1914 is one familiar example—a true story that has captured hearts for nearly a hundred years. World War I had begun only months before, and the fighting on the Western Front between the Germans and the Allies was very fierce. Hope for a quick war was gone. Both armies knew they would be bitter enemies for years.

A system of trenches separated the two sides, with the area in between regarded as “No Man’s Land.” But on Christmas Eve, an unofficial truce began. German soldiers began singing “Silent Night” in German, and men on the other side of the great divide joined along in English. Soldiers who hours before had been attempting to kill one another were now singing together about the wonder of Christ’s birth.

As the night and the singing continued, the soldiers emerged out of their trenches to join one another in “No Man’s Land,” where they exchanged gifts, shared in burial services, and played soccer together. An estimated 100,000 soldiers along the Western Front laid down their weapons all that night and the next day. In subsequent years their commanders would demand that they continue fighting on Christmas Day, but in this one sacred interlude in 1914, a reminder of the incarnation caused a cease-fire. Even if for a brief moment, there was peace on earth and good will toward men.

Gospel Continually Forms

Though the believers in Philippi had been brought together only because of the gospel, Paul knew that the gospel must continually form community. The Christian faith is and has always been an interdependent grouping of people rescued by Christ. But because of our sinfulness, we tend to drift away from that, toward either dependence or independence.

Some are more likely to move in the direction of dependence. This occurs when we find our identity, security, or worth in someone else. Maybe the pastor, a friend we feel we must have, a certain teacher, or a person we don’t feel we can do without. Unhealthy dependence is actually a form of idolatry, finding ultimate fulfillment in someone other than God.

Equally destructive and on the other side of the spectrum is independence. Some foolishly attempt to live an isolated faith, recklessly believing that the Christian life can be lived in one’s own might and merit. Independence shuns community and refuses to lean on others for maturity, growth, sharing, and serving.

The gospel says differently. It pulls us back to interdependence.

Paul reminded believers to keep the gospel as the impetus for their community. He challenged them to “[stand] firm in one spirit, with one mind striving side by side for the faith of the gospel” (Phil. 1:27 ESV). He encouraged them because of Christ to have “the same love, being in full accord and of one mind” (2:2 ESV). He pleaded with them to submit to one another as Christ submitted to death, to have the same humble attitude as His (2:5–8). Paul knew that contrary to Jesus-centered community is the thinking that some believers are at a different level of righteousness than other believers, that some believers are “better.”

In 1983 an educational commission appointed by President Ronald Reagan released a study that influenced common practice in schools. It chronicled how America was no longer the leader in education, and that one of the reasons was because its smarter students were being held back to accommodate the ones who couldn’t keep up. Thus began an emphasis on “gifted” classes—students who were set apart to learn at an accelerated rate apart from the rest of the school population.

If you were in school during that time, you may remember the sting when particular students got pulled out of your class and assigned to special accelerated classes. The thought behind it was this: “The dumb guys are holding down our best and brightest. So we should pull out the smart ones. Let those guys color, and teach these other guys calculus.” It was a bit painful and demotivating. Perhaps you thought, They’re gifted and talented, so obviously I’m not.

Unfortunately, some of this idea has seeped into the Church. Some act as if there are levels of Christianity, and when you hit the gifted level, you don’t mingle so much with people who aren’t there yet. After all, they’re slower than you are, they’re not as motivated as you, they don’t understand what you understand, and they’re not as serious about pursuing the things of the Lord as you are. But the concept of “levels in Christianity” is not a concept built on the gospel of Christ.

Levels are only possible if there are levels of righteousness. And those levels simply do not exist, because we all possess the same amount of righteousness—none. The only righteousness any of us have is the righteousness God freely gives to us in Christ.

Some may be more mature than others in their understanding of the righteousness that’s been freely given, or in how they live in response to it. But no one in the community of faith is more righteous than another. Nobody.

Therefore, any attempt to build community on something more than the grace of Christ becomes a subtle move away from grace, a move toward pseudo-community that only puffs up and fails to transform. If something other than the person and work of Jesus becomes the foundation for a group of believers, that “other thing,” whatever it is—economic level, social manners, music preferences, common life experiences—becomes what they use to differentiate themselves from others. And it immediately becomes a point of boasting, a way to feel justified.

In the Galatian church, the issue became “circumcision.” Those who were circumcised only fellowshipped with others in the same condition. In churches today, perhaps it’s “we’re the deeper group” or “the homeschool group” or “this zip code group.” While there’s nothing wrong with people wanting to go deeper, or meet in homeschool groups, or make friends in the same zip code, we must be careful. Because of our sinfulness, these commonalities can become the bond that holds us together instead of the gospel. And worse, these commonalities can become prideful distinctions that repel others from a community that should be open and inclusive.

The commonality of the gospel is something believers share that will never change. Whether we are single or married, with children or no children, hyper-religious or irreligious, young or old, all believers in Jesus-centered community have a common place to stand together. In fact, if your small groups, journey groups, life groups, Sunday school classes, Adult Bible Fellowships, or whatever you call them are not centered on the common need for and common experience of grace, then they are actually doing more harm than good to the gospel movement. If groups are not gospel-centered and gospel-fueled, they are merely a social outlet for people, and they lack the power for transformation.

So what does community centered on Jesus and His work look like . . . practically?

The apostle Paul spent the first eleven chapters of Romans unpacking the fullness and the glory of the gospel. Then in Romans 12, he moved to our responses in light of the gospel, with the back half of the chapter containing some very practical but profound instructions that guide our pursuit of gospel-centered community. After clearly establishing that Christ is the One who forms community and places believers in one body (12:5), Paul issued this challenge:

Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor. Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality. Rom. 12:9–13 ESV)

Let’s take some of these statements one by one, and see what we can learn.

No Masks Allowed

“Let love be genuine.” True, gospel-saturated community is authentic. The original word translated genuine means love that is free of “pretending, simulating, or acting.” In other words, the community is not surface-only or fake. It’s not filled with easy answers that justify the spiritual prowess of those involved. In essence, a sign hangs above the doorway that reads: No Masks Allowed.

The regular confession of sin, struggles, fears, and failures is common in gospel-centered community—which only makes sense, because an essential foundation for this community is the reality that all have fallen woefully short of the glory of God, and that each of us continues to battle our selfish natures daily. The only reason the community exists, in fact, is because Christ has called it into existence, not because any of us earned the right to be in community through our moral strength, family connections, reputation, talent, or anything else.

The word church (ekklesia in the original language) literally means “the called out ones.” The word is plural. Believers, therefore, are placed in community with others for one reason: because God has called them out of their former ways of life. Everyone in the community is deeply sinful. Everyone is called by the same God. And everyone has been mercifully placed in community together.

So why pretend we’re more than we are if everything is built on Jesus’ righteousness and not our own? Why the need to be fake? The gospel frees us to be authentic, to admit that our struggles and strengths have not been fully sanctified, and to allow others to apply the grace of God to areas of our lives that desperately need it.

When community is honest and authentic, people begin to experience (and lead others to experience) freedom from wearing a mask because Jesus sets people free from the need to be hypocrites. He liberates religious overachievers controlled and dominated by a religious system they can never beat. He emancipates those shackled to their secrets by bringing light to the darkness. He tears off the masks of the seemingly perfect and allows them to walk in the open. That’s the nature of authenticity in Jesus-centered community—people constantly emerging from the shadows and finding the sufficiency of grace.

Safe, Not Soft

“Abhor what is evil.” A gospel-centered community acknowledges the presence of sin and welcomes the confession of sin. But a truly gospel-centered community never reduces the severity of sin. To “abhor” describes the way a believer should react to sin. The word means to “shiver in horror,” the way your body reacts to an unexpectedly ­freezing cold shower. Believers are to shudder at things that go against God’s revealed purposes, things that harm both ourselves and others.

Yes, gospel-centered community creates a safe environments for people to be honest about where they are, but always with one notable caveat—without excusing their sin. Sadly, a tendency exists among Christians to seek authentic environments for the sake of relishing in authenticity. These people get up after a small group meeting or some other accountability structure, slapping each other on the back for their ability to be open and honest about their sin. Yet they never take active steps together in order to combat that sin. True Jesus-centered authenticity lovingly nudges believers toward continual repentance—not just a bunch of “nobody’s perfect” confessions but actual, gospel-driven changes in lifestyle.

The apostle Paul challenged the Roman believers: “What shall we say then? Are we to continue in sin that grace may abound? By no means! How can we who died to sin still live in it?” (Rom. 6:1–2 ESV). What he was evidently addressing was a perceived theological loophole some Roman Christians had found that allowed them to live in whatever fashion they wanted—and not only feel OK with it, but feel like they were doing God a big favor. They figured, “If God is going to love and forgive me regardless, then why not do whatever I want so that His grace is made even more obvious by loving me despite how wicked I am?” No way, Paul said, was this the right response to God’s incredible grace. When God saves us, our attitude toward sin changes. Sin doesn’t become easier to commit; it becomes more despicable to us than ever.

Both personal and communal responsibility is involved in helping us “abhor” sin. Because we are often blind to the areas of our lives that are in the most desperate need of repentance, we need others to encourage us so we will not be hardened by sin’s deceit. Because we are masters of self-deception, we often don’t even realize these areas of our lives exist. Yet the Lord is gracious to give us the gift of each other—brothers and sisters around us who are willing to engage us and say, “I think this is more of an issue than you realize.”

Abhorring what is evil in the context of community requires true love—love that dares to inflict “the wounds of a friend” (Prov. 27:6 ESV). The weakest, saddest, most hypocritical form of pseudo love is the kind that sees someone in danger and simply hopes everything works out in the end. Is it judgmental, ruthless, or wicked to correct your children when they’re doing things that are dangerous for them? Normal parents would never watch their kids play in the street and just hope they don’t get hurt: “I know it’s dangerous, but look how happy they are. They seem to be having so much fun.” Our ferocious commitment to their safety and success, along with a heart full of genuine love, drives us to endure the often unhappy experience of disciplining our children. In the same way, gospel-formed believers take responsibility for confronting those who claim to be Christ-followers and yet continue to sin.

Church leaders must strive to create environments that are “safe but not soft,” environments that embrace people in their brokenness while guiding them to wholeness in Christ. Gospel-centered community exists with the grace-filled tension of receiving sinners while simultaneously making war on sin.

Furthermore, church leaders must live in community themselves. If possible, staff and spouses should be active participants in one or more groups and fellowships, since they have the same needs to grow and be accountable as others. It’s inconsistent and spiritually dangerous for leaders to be pushing and preaching spiritual growth yet not be growing themselves. A leader who is not in community is the epitome of spiritual elitism, living as if he’s above the need for encouragement and correction.

One additional way to “abhor” sin in community comes through the biblical practice of church discipline. Most people find even the phrase “church discipline” to be cringe-worthy. They think of church leaders walking around like the Gestapo, constantly snooping into people’s business, looking to record any mistake. But the heart of church discipline is an expression of God’s kindness, not His wrath. It’s divinely designed to teach people how to live, not to “kick people out of our church because they’re making us look bad.” Having clear expectations for membership in the community of faith, as well as guidelines and steps for church discipline, is a way to communicate God’s design for holiness within community. Church discipline reminds everyone that the church not only values the commands of God but also the souls of those who are members. Discipline is an expression of love, the kind that refuses to allow Christians to deceive themselves into ever thinking that continual, unrepentant sin is not damaging, both to themselves and to the community.3

Let “Philadelphia” Continue

“Love one another with brotherly affection.” Jesus-centered community is genuine and abhors evil. It is also filled with “brotherly affection.”

This is much deeper than sitting in a small group, drinking sweet tea, eating Doritos, and going home, all the while talking about how great our community is because we’ve spent a few minutes with each other. “Brotherly affection” in the original language is composed of two root words: philos, which means “brotherly love,” and adelphos, which means “of the same womb.” Therefore, because of the gospel, believers are called to possess a deep brotherly love for each other as if we were literally born from the same womb . . . which we were.

Think of it in terms of your own home and family. Even though we might not always be in the same room together, we are fully aware of each person. We know where they are, what challenges they face, and what they need most. We would never sit down for a meal with someone missing from the table and not know their whereabouts. Why? Because we love them with this kind of familial affection.

Christians throughout the ages have been recognized as a group who cares deeply for each other. Aristides, a pagan orator, wrote scornfully of the early Christians, but even he was forced to admit they loved each other deeply: “If these Christians hear that any one of their number is in distress for the sake of Christ’s name, they all render aid in his necessity.”4 That’s “brotherly love” at work. Hard work.

Paul additionally challenged believers in Romans 12 to “outdo one another in showing honor” (v. 10 ESV). Paul surely doesn’t mean merely honoring the pastor or guest speaker with exotic candies in the green room. The giving and receiving of honor is something that should happen between all believers, all the time.

Honor and affection are connected. A husband who honors his wife will also have affection for her. A woman who has affection for her husband will also honor him. Stirred-up affections result in honor. But how do we generate positive feelings for each other if our heart’s not really in it, if these other people in our community don’t just naturally make us want to “honor” them? The only way to stir up true affection for others is to have a stirred-up realization of God’s affection for us in Jesus Christ. Our understanding of God’s love for us, despite us, enables us to love others in spite of themselves. Affection for the Lord leads to affection for others, resulting in outdoing one another in honor. It makes us ask ourselves questions like:

• How can I be concerned about you and your needs?

• Why shouldn’t I take the farthest parking spot?

• How about if I take the seat that’s blocked by a pole?

• What if I lose so you can win?

• How can I disadvantage myself for your advantage?

• What would it mean to consider you more significant than me?

Reminded, Not Instructed

“Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.” Sometimes we forget the fact that New Testament letters like Paul’s to the Romans were originally meant to be read, studied, and practiced in community. Commands like these from Romans 12, then—to rejoice, to be patient, to be persistent in prayer—are not just for individual Christians. They’re for the people of God. We are to rejoice together, be patient together, pray together.

Thankfully, a day is coming on earth when there will be no more memorials, no more remembrances of tragedies, no more cancer, no more sickness, no more sore throats, heartburn, terrorist attacks, anger, or tears. All these things will simply cease to be, and in that truth we rejoice in hope. But for now, we live in the midst of these horrible things, overwhelmed by them, with no human match for them. And though we know we’re supposed to rejoice in hope, pray, and be patient, we are “prone to wander.” Therefore, God has given us the gift of community to remind us of what we already know we’ve been given in Christ—a promised reason for enduring. We see this idea expressed beautifully in 1 John 4:10–12 (ESV):

In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God abides in us and his love is perfected in us.

That last verse is admittedly a little confusing at first. God’s love is “perfected”? Is John saying that God’s love isn’t perfect otherwise? Has He withheld some element of His love that we only get if we love one another? Absolutely not.

What he’s saying is that when we love each other with a love rooted in the gospel, we are able to see an even more tangible expression of God’s love for us in Christ. Real-life experiences of loving each other well provide a visceral way of remembering something we so easily forget: the fullness of God’s love for us in Christ. When pain makes us forget for a moment about everything God is and everything He’s done, we choose to love each other . . . and we remember. Gospel-centered community brings us back to our gospel senses.

Meeting Needs

“Contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality.” A true mark of a community that’s continually being formed in the gospel is the warmth and hospitality that supernaturally flows from within it. Community in which Christ is constantly remembered as the Author of the community is one that is grace-filled and loving.

For the Roman Christians, this was a pretty cut-and-dried issue. There were believers among them without food and clothing. So what was the Church supposed to do for them? Simple: give them food and clothes. The gospel reminds us that we are all needy, every one of us. Since Christ has met our needs, we are motivated to meet the needs of our brothers and sisters.

But while assistance with food, clothing, rent, and utility bills are essential ways churches can meet the needs of believers who are struggling, often the bulk of people’s need today is not material but spiritual. How, then, do believers practice Jesus-centered hospitality?

At its core, meeting the needs of others means that those with less are invited to share in the joys and blessings of those who have more. But our tendency is to narrow this definition to money. In a Jesus-centered community, actions of hospitality go beyond those who are rich sharing with those who are poor. Men skilled in plumbing and carpentry share with people who are not. Parents who’ve raised children share wisdom with new mothers and fathers. Lawyers, doctors, and other professionals utilize their unique skills to serve those in need of those skills at the moment when they are needed. (And those with great tickets share with their pastors.)

The early church instinctively understood meeting each other’s needs based on a gospel orientation. They longed for one another, met continually together, provided for each other (Acts 2:44–45). And in God’s providence, He has continued to arrange community around each person in order to meet the needs of each individual. He has chosen to use community to ensure His people experience nurture and care.

What Could Be Deeper?

The grand narrative of Scripture features community. In the beginning, our triune God graciously gave community to Adam and Eve. But sin distorted and messed up the perfect community they shared. They lost the beauty of their nativity, and tension existed between them the rest of their days. Yet in His mercy, God pursued and established a new community—Israel. And through Christ, He pursued and established His Church. The end of the story has yet to be realized, but the promise of eternal and everlasting community will be fulfilled.

I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” (Rev. 21:3–4 ESV)

The community that believers will enjoy forever will be perfect. The community we experience now is a reflection of this ultimate and everlasting community; therefore, it must even now be savored, nurtured, fed, invested in. Churches that merely put on Sunday shows and don’t preach and practice community grounded in the gospel are a poor reflection of the eternal community promised for believers. Churches that fail to embrace the connection between the gospel and community merely stuff people into rooms around commonalities that can never stand the test of time. Churches that forget the essence of the gospel unintentionally allow false levels of righteousness to prohibit the liberating openness and authenticity that people need.

There is nothing stronger, nothing deeper, than the gospel on which to build community. Is the gospel what your church proclaims and practices as the foundation for community? It must be. Because community is only as strong as what it’s built upon.