Community is a buzzword. Every author and every speaker on the subject of church in the postmodern world knows it. People are looking for community, and consequently churches must offer community. Every church I have seen in the past 5 years is focusing on "being a community."

The organization I work for, Christian Associates International, plants fresh churches in major cities across Europe. These churches characterize themselves by focusing heavily on, you guessed it: community. We recently did research in London to study the possibility of starting a church there. A friend of mine, a rather postmodern fellow, lives in London, and I had contacted him about this idea. He liked most of what I wrote, but he responded most violently at the idea that a church must be a community. He was absolutely disgusted at the idea. In his understanding, "being a community" was the last thing churches should aim for.

WHY FOCUS ON COMMUNITY?

Before I go on to explain my friend's reaction, it might be helpful to review some of the apologetic reasons church leaders and planters have become so focused on community-building:

1. People are lonely. The breakdown of the social fabric of society leads to isolation and alienation.

2. The activities we spend most of our time (on working, shopping, eating) say nothing about who we are, and they offer no sense of belonging.

3. Postmodern thinking comes with its own form of existentialism, which says that people cannot find significance unless they belong to a "tribe." Modern existentialism preached that life had no intrinsic value; therefore, value had to be created by the individual. In postmodern existentialism, people still believe that life has no discernable value of its own, but value is given to life by the stories that are shared by the different tribes and communities we belong to. Stories that give meaning and value to life are commonly called meta-narratives, and they are shared by communities and tribes. When we are not part of any community, our lives are devoid of meaning and value.

Let me give you an example: I play volleyball for a club called the Red Stars (the name is presumptuous, trust me!). When I cross the boundary lines and step onto the court at the start of the game, everything that is "me" ceases to be important. It no longer matters that I am married and a father of three, or that I work as a missionary in Europe. It matters not whether I struggle with alcohol or if I am rich or poor. All that matters is that I do whatever it takes to not let that ball hit the floor on my side of the net and try the hardest I can to get that ball on the floor on the opposite side of the net. We Red Stars have a "story" that gives us significance and morals: We are a team, we have history, and we are trying our best (doggone it!) to get to the top of the league (fat chance).

Back to my point. People who are not part of a community cannot participate in a story that gives meaning to life. People need community, because without it, they are stripped of significance and morals. There is a spiritual, moral and psychological nakedness to a person who does not belong to any community.

4. There is one more reason why church leaders believe they should focus on community: It's one thing they feel the church should be good at anyway!

SICK OF CHURCH COMMUNITY

So why was my friend so angry at the idea that a church would present itself as being a wonderful community? It's probably best to let my friend explain himself: "It isn't that I think these things aren't good and desirable, but I feel that they're the last thing that the church in England needs to aim for. This is the only thing that churches in England have talked about for years." That is the heart of the problem for my friend: We talk about community, but we do not offer it.

My friend's point is that we are making a mistake when we focus on community and present community as something we are. In his mind (and I happen to agree with him), we are putting the cart before the horse. Community is not something to aim for; it is something that happens as a byproduct. Says he: "I always felt that friendship, community and personal development are the kinds of things that never happen when you aim for them to happen, like aiming for happiness. They are the byproducts of risk and struggle."

I'm afraid that my friend is pointing out a rather silly mistake we all have made. We thought that we could hang out a shingle and sell ourselves as communities, when in fact we had no idea how to be communities. Community, says my friend, is what you have on the other side of crises, when you have weathered the storms together. Before that, all you have is "a nice togetherness."

A DIFFERENT VISION

My friend presents a different vision of community. It is one that instantly shows me how cheap my own vision of community has been. I thought I could organize small groups and the occasional potluck supper or game in the park and I'd have community. I was wrong, and no one was attracted to it. My friend, on the other hand, presents a vision of friends who stand by each other through thick and thin, finding on the other side that they have something more precious than gold. Says my friend: "It's funny how soldiers who have fought together in wars have unbreakable friendship and community."

Here's the point, and I am spelling it out very clearly because it's incredibly important that we get this: You cannot organize community. You only get it by weathering the storms, going through the fire, standing tall when all fall away, coming to your friend's defense when no one else will, and being the last ones left when the fight is over.

That is a community that is appealing!