Archives For Community

I was talking with a friend this morning, and the subject circled around to issues in technology and Christian living. One thing we discussed was whether it is possible to send the communion of two souls over a digital connection. We concluded that there is a certain experience of personal, physical interaction that cannot be achieved from a distance, no matter how that distance is bridged. In New Testament times, the technological means of fellowship from a distance was a letter. Still, this did not sufficiently stand in for personal, physical presence. Writing a letter to Rome did not satisfy Paul’s desire for personal fellowship with the believers in that church (Rom 1:11).

Today, technological means can impersonate (in a literal way) true interaction–true communion–with another person more closely. I can video chat with my parents from 2300 miles away. I can see my folks’ faces, and talk with them instantly. It’s close to personal interaction. Well, it’s closer to personal interaction than, say, writing an epistle to the Slavich family dispersed throughout the continental forty-eight.

It’s the closer-ness that causes the confusion. Our technology has approached true interaction so quickly that our heads spin. I like to think that I am somewhat technologically savvy. And, still, I think “Wow” whenever I talk with my California-dwelling folks or a Colorado-visiting friend over a video chat. The moving pictures make me sense their true presence more closely, and it’s better than writing a letter, or an email, or even a phone call.

But it is still not the deepest and intended level of communion that God intends when he says things like “Do not give up meeting together” (Heb 10:25). In-person, physical communion and fellowship is what we were made for, and an unquantifiable depth of soul-connection piggybacks upon it. A depth that cannot be sent over the internet or phone waves or bleed through ink and paper.

As an undergraduate English/writing major, I took a course on “Editing for Writers”. My professor would often say, “Everybody needs an editor.” Because every writer misses stuff in his or her own writing. Getting used to seeing certain mistakes in their own work, writers will skim them over, neglecting necessary revision and improvement. They want their prose or poetry to sparkle, but they cannot accomplish it alone. They have blind spots, and they need an outside set of trained eyes to recognize them. Every writer needs an editor.

So does every Christian: every Christian needs others to point out blind spots. Call it “community” or “fellowship” or “accountability”–the point is the same–every Christian needs other steel-minded and tender-hearted Christians to call them on the carpet for sin(s) they overlook. We can’t do it alone. God didn’t make us that way. We too easily skim over our own mistakes. We need our brethren who will graciously but relentlessly help us to edit our lives.

There was anger.

There were tears.

There was spilled coffee on the floor.

There was making amends.

There was forgiveness and grace at the foot of the Cross.

There was worship.

For all who read this and don’t know, in the elder days (ok, so I just finished watching the Lord of the Rings…), I was a part of a book club. We called ourselves the Not Oprah’s Book Club, which we shorted immediately to the NOBC.

We would read a variety of fiction and non-fiction stuff, and get together for breakfast every month or so on a Saturday morning.

Well, we all got busy and the NOBC was neglected for a period years.

But now, it has been revived.

The NOBC lives!