I’m sitting on a beach in Northern Ontario, looking out on Lake Superior. The beach, of course, is beautiful. The sand bright and hot from the morning sun. The lake so cold I don’t dare dip my toe. The only sounds are those you’d expect in such a place—the shore-kissing waves, the whispering trees, the occasional squaking gull.
What there isn’t, is people. My husband and in-laws have taken daughters and nieces for a few hours, so there’s no gaggle of squealing girls (all seven and under) disrupting the peace of my perfect sandy spot.
It is quiet here. It is contemplative. It is perfect for rest, for reflection, for silence. It is perfect for listening.
But while quiet times are integral to our mental, emotional and spiritual wellbeing (be sure to read future blog entries for more on that), removing yourself from a solitary space to come together in community is equally important.
I’ve been doing some reading lately on the need for human connection—something that takes me back to my university days and Psych 101—and there’s no shortage of material on the fact that we are made for social interaction. In a 2013 Scientific American article entitled “Why We Are Wired to Connect,” scientist Matthew Lieberman argues “that our need to connect is as fundamental as our need for food and water.”
The Bible also speaks of this need for community, and the call to live in community with others (even those on the outskirts or those who are different from us). Psalm 133:1 notes, “How very good and pleasant it is when kindred live together in unity,” and at numerous points throughout scriptures, we are reminded to bear each other’s burdens, comfort one another, and encourage each other “toward love and good works.” (Hebrews 10:24)
Howard Macy, in an article entitled, “Community: God’s Design for Growth,” states that, “Christian community is the place of our continuing conversion.”
It isn’t any wonder then that I recently received an email from a reader in Stella, Ont., asking if I was pursuing my year of becoming an “ordinary radical” alone, or in the company and support of others.
“Don’t you know that only in and among others, in real community, can you find the strength and vision needed to really change?” he wrote.
He noted that Jesus “left a community, not a belief,” and that the Church is faltering because we have forgotten that. (You can read the full letter in our Letters section this month.)
He’s right, of course.
I began this blog with a focus on community—that was the very point (re-visit my very first column from January to see what I mean!). It is, after all, the thesis to Shane Claiborne’s argument. That it is only in community, and the creation and enjoyment of it, that we truly know our neighbour and want to do all we can to help those who are struggling; to make real, lasting change. It is in and through community where biblical values of charity and goodwill, of justice and peace, of sharing and kindness, truly come to life.
Interestingly though, despite this basic need, Claiborne admits, “that doesn’t mean community is easy.”
“For everything in this world tries to push us away from community, pushes us to choose ourselves over others, to choose independence over interdependence, to choose great things over small things, to choose going fast alone over going far together. The simple way is not the easy way.”
Since it’s September—the unofficial “new year” for many of us—I figure it’s time to get back to basics. I’ve lost my way; trying to do things on my own, lamenting the fact that I have so little time to do anything at all, and criticizing those who aren’t stepping up to do more.
This isn’t what I’d intended.
So thank you, kind reader, for taking the time to send me an email, to remind me what this is all about. I have indeed been doing some projects with friends; but there are definitely other things I could be doing to encourage and inspire others to help out along with me (and to inspire and encourage myself!). To celebrate successes and share in failures. To build the community both within the church, and outside of it. And dream up new ways to connect even more.
As nice as this beach is, peaceful and restful and quiet (all wonderful things for an introvert!), I must go back to real life; to family, to friends, to community.
