But whether it
is the counterfeit brother- and sisterhood of gangs and militants or the
virtual communities of the Internet, there is a sense in which these
communities fall short of what people truly need. The picture of community we
find in scripture in Acts 2 is dynamic and radical. The dynamism is best
described when St Luke writes that they were a people of signs and wonders. As
much as churches talk about how caring and friendly they are, the most
important point of commonality is the presence of the power of the Holy Spirit.
It was the power of the Holy Spirit that made the people of faith into a
dynamic, multipliable force.
The authentic
church is still being characterised by signs and wonders: changed hearts;
healed bodies, minds, and relationships; witness and social action in the
world. It is sad that signs and wonders is a description that people often only
apply to charismatic denominational and nondenominational churches. At its
heart, the church is not about what people do, but rather about what the Holy
Spirit does through openhearted, open-minded people
Providing good
parking, communicating in the vernacular style of the people, and having
well-organised welcoming strategies is good, but they cannot substitute for the
work of the Holy Spirit in the Christian Church. I wonder what it is in the
other organisations that supplies the direction and knitting together of the
group? The Acts 2 picture of community is deeply radical to many people and
even too many Christians. Luke writes that they “had all things in common.” For
a slave community with little or no property or assets, this kind of sharing
makes sense. As the church grew, however, this model became rare.
But the clear picture is that the church was
bound, economically as well as spiritually. “They would sell their possessions
and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need.” Most church
goers today would be hard-pressed to name their areas of need, economically or
otherwise. In fact, we work hard at presenting the image that, because God has
blessed us, we are not needy. We love to help the needy, but we don’t want to
be like them. We secretly believe that needy people are deficient and inferior
to us, put there by God to make us feel grateful and guilty for being more
blessed.
Could it be
that one of the reasons that our sense of community is often artificial because
there is very little holding us together? Down deep in our fallen selves, we
really do want to believe that we don’t need each other. The Acts 2 picture
also includes the investment of time that community requires. People don’t “go
to church”—they are the church. Early Christians were community at work, home,
worship, fellowship, and witness. Parents and family’s day by day, as they
spent much time together in worship, they broke bread at home and ate their
food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all
the people.”
How different
this is from the characterisation of the twenty-first-century communities we
live in or the Church we may belong to. Our situation might be described this
way: “And since they were very busy people, they spent as little time with each
other as they could get away with, eating on the run and never feeling
satisfied, competing and scrapping over worship, and having the mistrust and
criticism of the majority of the people.” The opportunity to be a dynamic and radical
community of faith has been given to many.
So, how do we
respond to a family experiencing a death where a wife and children are left
behind. Have we as a community learnt the what it is to be the body of Christ. Have
we surrounded youth in our community as they face difficulties with love and
care? Common grief can become a source of common commitment and purpose.
Through tragedies, we can learn better than ever who, and whose, we are: the
people of God, dynamically and radically bound in spirit, in goods, and in
shared time. And with it there have been and there will be more signs and
wonders.
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