We Americans like being strong, individualistic, and tough. It’s so . . . American. We are rugged individualists. And there is some good in that. But there is also danger.

Aristotle claimed that sharing our lives with one another is very important. He said that if “each man lives as he pleases,” he lives “as the Cyclopes do.” The mythical Cyclopes were mean, destructive beings, with a single eye—for themselves. I think we evangelicals stand guilty of that. Our lack of true community and intimacy and our rabid individuality have often made the typical American evangelical church monstrous.

We humans are by nature individual and communal beings. We were created that way. Throughout the first two chapters of Genesis, you find the phrase “and God saw that it was good” repeatedly. That was God’s reply as He reflected on each aspect of the creation He had made. But after creating the first human, God said something very different. He looks at Adam and says, “This isn’t good” (Gen. 2:18). He was referring to the fact that Adam was alone. God quickly moved to bring someone else into the picture. Community.

What’s interesting in the narrative is that God essentially is saying human beings need more than just a relationship with God. We need other human beings! God designed us to need one another. Most think that needing or having to depend upon others is a sign of weakness. Our society teaches us that independence equals strength, when just the opposite is true.

It takes great strength to get along with others. We have to have a lot of intestinal fortitude and plain ol’ guts to stay in relationships. All it takes is a well-developed attitude of selfishness to join the ranks of the Cyclopes. There is an abundance of that these days.

But God created us with a need for others. And that need was not the result of sin. Needing others is the plan and will of God. To feel actualized, we must find expression both individually and within the context of community. Sadly, in the evangelical tradition there is little discussion about or awareness of the corporate element of faith.

James Sanders suggests that many in our culture “think of religion as a personal matter and concern, something between them as individuals and God.” Though few Evangelicals would hold to the idea that community is inconsequential, our view of community is pretty pale. Perhaps our concept of individual faith has been so radicalized that we don’t see the value of community.

But Jesus said one of the primary ways we show ourselves to be his disciples is by connecting with others who have faith (John 13:35). The idea is that faith is not to be lived out alone.
What if grace—the power to change—is not just communicated to us when we are by ourselves? What if God designed faith to be more than just an intensely personal experience? It certainly is that, but what if God planned faith to have a corporate element as well? What if community—the idea of connecting with others—is a necessary conduit of critical grace in our lives? What if we are not just supposed to figure this out alone?

What if the deepest, deadliest, and most terrible parts of our lives never get uprooted until we can talk openly about them—confess them—to trustworthy others who can encourage us and lock arms with us to help us walk out our freedom?

This begs the question: Do YOU have anyone like that in your life, someone with whom you can be totally honest? Or are you basically doing life alone? There are lots of us that are alone—and it can mean real trouble.

I think we are in trouble as a culture, and I don’t think the church is doing much better. I think our greatest need is for community—for connecting with one another. Remember that Jesus never wrote a book, never established a school—his legacy was leaving a community.

The New Testament writings that we love and read devotionally sprang from the living community Jesus left. We still have the writings. We still have his words, his truth. But I fear we have lost much of the idea of community—which is the Word (the writings) incarnate. (See 2 Corinthians 3:3.)

True, we have some huge churches with lots of numbers—the American church is big—but I am not sure we are all that significant. And I am quite sure there is little true connection. And I think people are starting to get tired of big and are longing more to belong.

So, what should we do?

Refuse to Fly Solo
I think the biggest hindrance to community and belonging is that, for the most part, we do faith alone. We come to church and we hear thoughts about God, but then we are expected to figure out how to apply those thoughts on our own. It’s as if the whole reason we come together is to hear the truth, and then we are to go off alone and try to figure out how to get it into practice.

Or we come together and we try to fix one another. Someone gets anointed and preaches and prays for people—maybe throws some oil on them or tries to expunge the devil—the goal is to fix people so they can, again, go off and try living out their faith on their own.
Certainly, there is good in preaching and in praying and in ministering to one another, but what about the biblical imperative to “confess your sins to each other” (James 5:16)? Do you have someone in your life to whom you can really confess—with the confidence that he or she will not betray you, think less of you, or reject you? Will that person actually believe God is bigger than your weaknesses? Are you confident that, though this friend loves you, he will not accept your sin, but work with you to break through it?

Here’s a dream worth living for: a place where you can be honest about your doubts and fears without being met with worn-out clichés or empty platitudes; a place that recognizes faith as a time-laded, growth process, not the product of an “instant-pudding” altar prayer; a place where you can get help today but be challenged to grow so you’re better prepared to face tomorrow; a place of intimacy, where you can know and be known; a place where it is hard not to find God; a place where finding God is as corporate as it is personal; a place where you belong whether you’re single, married, divorced, widowed, young, old, rich, poor, smart, dull, thin, fat, beautiful, or ugly; a place where you can find meaningful service, where you commit to something bigger than yourself; a place that needs you; a place of safety; a place off-limits to witches, demons, and the walking dead—the safest place in the world.

We could call it church.