Cultivating Real Community

“And all those who had believed were together and had all things in common; and they began selling their property and possessions and were sharing them with all, as anyone might have need. Day by day continuing with one mind in the temple and breaking bread from house to house, they were taking their meals together with gladness and sincerity of heart.” (Acts 2: 44-47 NASB)

For those of you who spend time in evangelical circles, the verses above are probably familiar to you, an accounting of the early Christian community as told by Paul in the book of Acts. He shares that believers devoted themselves to each other and the mutual flourishing of the group. These verses and the few that precede them are the models many modern evangelical churches use to communicate the need for Christian fellowship in groups, often called small groups, life groups, or some other similar name. These groups provide an environment for Christians to grow, learn, and “do life” together within the context of a faith community.

My first experience with small groups was fifteen years ago at a small church in Kentucky. My then-boyfriend (now husband) and I joined a group of young married couples. These couples welcomed us even though we had spent many years away from the church. We gathered for Bible study, lunches after Sunday services, and game nights at each other’s homes. The bonds we made in this group contributed significantly to our growing faith, and we remain in relationships with many of those couples to this day.

Since that first group, I’ve had many different experiences in groups related to the church. I’ve been both a participant in and a leader of groups. I’ve formed deep relationships in some groups and  participated in others where the shallow connection was painful.

Small groups provide a convenient way for Christians to connect and learn more about faith together. But putting people in the same room every week for a few hours is not enough to form deep relationships. Real connection takes vulnerability and courage.

I think of relationships as being like chicken soup (stick with me, here). There are times when we all need the convenience of twisting the can opener over a can of Campbell’s chicken noodle and pouring the tan-colored mix of broth, noodles, and mechanically processed chicken into a pot, heating until steaming. Canned soup can fill our bellies for the time being, but a diet of only canned soup won’t serve our bodies well in the long term.

Canned soup can’t compare to homemade chicken soup prepared with care, time, and a variety of fresh ingredients. Making soup from scratch takes sacrifices that canned soup doesn’t, just like meaningful connection takes more than just putting people in the same orbit. And while canned soup is a monotone sort of beige, homemade soup has differing hues from carrots, celery, parsley, and other ingredients.

A little over a year ago, our family stepped away from church small groups. We were asking big questions about faith and the church, and we need space and time to process. A few months later, we decided to leave the institutional church. The thing that kept us at the church for years, despite its many problems, was the fantastic people. We wondered how we would find authentic community outside the church walls.

God, of course, provided the answer. What made the community of Acts so rich wasn’t a video Bible study or potluck. Real community is formed when we love our neighbors as ourselves and are committed to their flourishing. When our state went under safer at home orders in March 2020, our actual neighbors became our community in ways we had never experienced before in the seven years we’d lived in our home.

For months, the only people we saw were the few families who live within a quarter mile of us. We talked about pandemic life from safe distances while our children played parallel to each other in our respective yards. We traded rice for eggs and checked in to see who needed items from the store on our trips out. We gathered for bonfires when it was safe. We shared our fears about the future and frustrations with the long, dull quarantine days.

A year into the pandemic and our church exit, we have a richness of community we didn’t experience in our church’s homogenous groups. Diversity makes our community better. Not all of our neighbors share our faith, political beliefs, or core values. However, I don’t view my neighbors as conquests to be evangelized but as people to be loved.

In just a few weeks, our family will pull out of our driveway for the last time as we make our way to a new home in Tennessee. I will miss the community God has provided through our Michigan neighbors. I am already praying for God to give us a group of new neighbors to love as they are, a real community with all its awkwardness and glory. I’m convinced more than ever that God’s idea of community is not groups of people exactly like us from our hand-picked churches but the people he puts us in our everyday lives.

God, show us the community right outside our doors. Give us the courage to step out of our bubbles and comfort zones to find authentic fellowship with our fellow man. Amen.

Scripture for Reflection

Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. (Gal. 6:2 ESV)

Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up! Again, if two lie together, they keep warm, but how can one keep warm alone? And though a man might prevail against one who is alone, two will withstand him-a threefold cord is not quickly broken. (Eccl. 4:9-12 ESV)

Where is God calling you to love and connect with people in your town and city? Spend some time journaling about ways to form bonds with the community outside your church circles.

Reach for More

Authentic community comes in many packages. Share the places you’ve found your people with us on social media using the hashtag #tgtreachformore.

Lindsay Hufford is a small-scale farmer, home educator, chicken chaser, kitchen dancer, and mediocre knitter. Her favorite things include spending time with her family, exploring the natural world, reading, eating spicy food, and singing loudly in the car (to the embarrassment of her children). Lindsay believes sharing our stories will change the world. She writes about farming, homeschooling, faith, mental health, sobriety, and living an unconventional life. You can follow her adventures at Kinship Flower Farm.

Photograph © Christian Stahl, used with permission