The Ministry of Shared Experiences

Summer camp was an annual adventure when I was growing up. Something about a week in a cabin full of girls my age was so enchanting. Like most of us who’ve had this experience, I always left with a set of newfound best friends who promised to stay in touch. Inevitably, we didn’t, but those initial friendships had a way of going deep in a short time. We all left summer camp feeling inextricably connected.

Reflecting on that experience as an adult, I’ve often wondered what made those relationships so special. I’m convinced it was the magic of shared experiences. For a week straight, we would eat, sleep, and play together, spending nearly every moment side by side. The same tends to be true of mission trips as an adult. Spend nearly every minute with someone for a week—including eating together at every meal—and you’ll leave with an entirely different relationship than the one you had in the beginning.

In a culture where loneliness is rampant, it’s important that we understand the roots of relationship.

My husband and I are newly married, and recently we were talking about our relationships with our in-laws. While we’re both grateful for our in-laws, we don’t yet feel deeply connected to them. As we unpacked those relationships and tried to determine why this might be the case, we realized we don’t have many shared experiences from which to draw positive memories, understanding, and common connection. While there are, of course, many elements to forging relationships, I believe shared experiences have a powerful way of accelerating a relationship’s growth.

The Acts Church Example 

One of the most frequent complaints I hear about churches today is that guests and members alike feel disconnected. When we don’t truly feel connected to others in a church, it’s unlikely that we’ll stick it out. It’s nearly impossible be an effective church with this kind of turnover. This wasn’t the case in the Acts church, however; they understood the ministry of shared experiences. I imagine this is why they were so successful.

Acts 2:46 says, “Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts” (NIV). This picture serves as a beautiful model for us. These early believers knew and experienced the power of shared experiences, and this verse indicates two important components:

• The early believers met together every day.

It’s impossible to forge deep relationships with people when we spend only one hour with them each week. While it might be impractical to spend time with friends and people in our community daily, sincere relationships are formed and molded in the mundane spaces of our everyday lives. The deepest relationships are almost always built in the in-between of weekly services—around kitchen tables, on worn living room couches, around the dinner table. Intentional time is the first step in building relationships.

• The believers “broke bread,” or shared meals together, in one another’s homes.

Something about eating together is unique. The table is a place of vulnerability. It’s a place of practical provision. It’s a place where we love our families by creating meals that provide nourishment for them. It’s the source of most family conversations. Eating together is powerful, and eating together in homes is additionally intimate, vulnerable, and personal. In today’s culture, the art of hospitality is quickly disappearing. For many, the only people who share a meal around their table are immediate family. To widen our circles, though, we must extend invitations to our tables.

We all eat three meals a day, so sharing a table is an easy default. But what else can we share that’s already a part of our days? How can we be intentional about our calendars to make space for building shared experiences? How do we build shared experiences into our lives?

Maybe it’s in the annual traditions our families celebrate. Maybe it’s inviting the neighbors to the baseball game you attend every Fourth of July. Maybe it’s a Friday summer movie night in the backyard. Perhaps it’s as simple as carpooling with another family to the kids’ sports practices and games. Our efforts to connect can be as structured as monthly neighborhood cookouts or as informal as last-minute dinner invitations. Creating shared experiences and extending hospitality doesn’t have to require an event planner and a calendar overhaul. The goal is to make minor, intentional changes to what we already do.

First, we look at our calendars and determine a strategic game plan. Next, we look into our hearts and seek to develop an attitude of humility and flexibility. If you’re like me, this is the harder step. I can create shared experiences like a professional, but if there’s laundry to be folded on the couch or I’ve had a hard day at work, I’m quick to back out, to cancel. Rather than let people into my real life, my real struggles, and my real mess, I’d rather offer them a curated view of my ideal life. The problem is that inauthentic shared experiences lead to inauthentic relationships. We’ve got to let go and invite people in.

Hannah Pannell is a sassy, Southern coffee lover who spends most of her days with a classroom full of little people. Hannah loves serving in the local church where her husband is an associate minister. She is passionate about gathering her people around the table over good food and even better conversation. Hannah blogs at thissweetlybrokenlife.com.

Photograph © Vonecia Carswell, used with permission