Join: Life Is A Group Project

“The deep knowledge that we call wisdom can only happen in the context of a community; we cannot know alone.”

Anthony J. Ciorra

Join a group? Not if I can avoid it. A true-blue Introvert, I’m plotting my exit strategy even as I arrive. To be (riskily) honest: I love people, but seldom trust them in bulk. I hear, beneath the casual chatter, the dark words left unsaid.

Group fail

But any fantasy of group-free existence is a dangerous illusion.

“Love cannot exist in isolation: away from others, love bloats into pride. Grace cannot be received privately: cut off from others it is perverted into greed. Hope cannot develop in solitude: separated from the community, it goes to seed in the form of fantasies. No gift, no virtue can develop and remain healthy apart from the community of faith,” wrote Eugene H. Peterson.

“Community is the only antidote we have to an individualism that is fast approaching the heights of the pathological…” Joan Chittister, a Benedictine sister, warned in 1990. Now, thirty years later, we’ve arrived on those pitiful peaks–lost to each other, lost to ourselves, lost to God.

Maybe it’s time to stop taking selfies, and rediscover the group photograph.

In the tenth verb of our Alphabet of Life series, we ask the question, “How do we help each other come home to us?”

Lost to us

It was a damp Sunday afternoon, a few days before Christmas, though no holiday spirit touched me. I was grocery shopping, wallowing in one of my “muttery” moods–discouraged, and angry at the cruel and careless words bombarding me on every social media side. I wondered what it means to be a Christian, when “Christians” behave no better than the rest.

Preparing for company, I piled my cart high, and joined a slow-moving line. I turned and noticed a three-piece-suited dapper-looking man standing behind me, clutching a modest basket. I urged the man to take the place in line before me. He smiled, looked me in the eye, and answered,

“I’m fine, I’m in no hurry–there’s no place I need to be!”

I replied, “Please…I know how annoying it can be when lines are long, carts are full, and you only have a few items….”

He interrupted me, smiling. “Now, what do I have to be annoyed about? It’s Christmas!”

I stared at him in disbelief, and grumbled, “Well, it seems like everyone is annoyed and irritated these days. It makes me want to never leave my house!”

“That’s why it has to start with us, you and me–you so kindly offering me your place. This is where things begin to change.”

Something about this man seemed so grounded, so peaceful, wise, and unmoved by the holiday chaos whirling around us. I took a risk, “Something tells me that you love Jesus–am I right?”

He beamed, “Ah, Jesus, Jesus. As long as we keep our eyes on him,” he pointed upwards, “it will be all right.”

“I know that,” I answered. “I spend too much time looking around me, yelling at people in my head.”

He smiled, “What are you yelling? ‘God loves you?'”

I gave him a sheepish glance. “No, not that. I’m yelling at the bullies, at the selfish and mean-spirited, because no one seems to be in charge.”

His face grew solemn. “There are good reasons to be angry–some serious stuff going on. But there is Someone in charge–you know that.”

At that moment, a smiling woman wandered over, and the man introduced his wife. Without thinking, I blurted to her, “We’re talking about Jesus!”

“I can think of no better topic,” she replied, amused.” The cashier glanced up, looking a bit stunned.

The man suddenly turned to me, and nodded his head with conviction. “I’m going to put you in my phone.” He showed me his smartphone, open to an app, a list–the name of someone with a brain tumor, another in need of a job. “I’m going to put your name in here, and I promise I will pray for you every day. Now, what do you want me to pray for?”

I almost burst into tears. It had been a long time since someone asked me that. “Pray that I won’t be so angry…no, pray that I will be like Jesus, ” I finally replied.

He laughed, “I will pray that, but you already are like Jesus!”

I shook my head, and muttered, “You don’t know…” But I smiled my gratitude, paid my bill, and we parted with hugs, and “God bless you” and cries of “Merry Christmas” to each other, and the others who stood watching, bemused.

The space in between

I walked to my car, marveling that I had just seen Jesus–not just in my new friends, but in the space between me and them. Wherever two or more of us lift our eyes (from the smoke-driven lies), Jesus will be found, despite us, among us. In that holy space, the Spirit of Jesus reminds us who we are, and what is always true. And he leads us home to us. But who is “us”?

The group project

1 Peter 3:8-9 describes a unique group project, birthed over 2000 years ago. The author of the letter uses 5 rare Greek adjectives to describe the new kind of community, a different way of being, thinking, and responding that would astound, and change, the world.

These Spirit-empowered humans were described as, (literally translated):

• Like-minded (with Jesus as the only agenda),
• Fellow-feeling (willing to rejoice or grieve with another, even in their “muttery” moods),
• Loving each other as family (tangibly praying for, caring for each others’ needs, out of gratitude to God),
• With gut-wrenching empathy–bearing the “tender mercy of our God,” even for selfish, mean-spirited bullies.
• And above all, humble-minded (letting go of their rights, joyfully taking the last place in line–the only proper position before God and others).

Even I want to be a part of a group like this! As one historian wrote of the early church, “Christianity let loose a vast, refreshing tide of kindness upon a world in which cruelty abounded.”

And history will repeat itself if we join in.

[Thank you for joining us here! You can subscribe to this series by scrolling to the very bottom of this site. Next time in, An Alphabet of Life: Wisdom Learned in the Verbs: K is for Keep].