Perils and Promise of Christian Community

On my other blog, The Well Run Dry, I have been writing about how the present global system known as the “official economy” is breaking, and how it is necessary for those who are not rich or powerful to begin building safety nets of alternative systems. One such system that I mentioned in a recent post is cohousing as a form of communal living in which community members could provide mutual support to one another.

After I wrote that post, I started thinking to myself, “What have I just written??!” Two things came immediately to mind: the relatively smooth experiences of some members of a secular cohousing community I recently visited, and my experience with communal living many years ago while a member of an abusive, unhealthy church. It seems from reading the Lord's commands in the Sermon on the Mount and the Upper Room discourse (Matthew 5-7; John 13-17) that Christians should have no trouble living communally when necessary, and that in the midst of widespread uncertainty and economic hardship, Christians should be a model for others to imitate. “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another, just like I have loved you; that you love one another. By this everyone will know that your are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

Why then was my experience of “Christian community” so screwed up? I know the answer: I was hoodwinked into joining a fraudulent organization that was not a genuine church, but merely one man's personal empire established to exploit its members. But I found after leaving this “church” that the founder's attitude was typical of many leaders and would-be leaders in modern evangelicalism. It is an attitude that loves hierarchy and domination, and the culture of that attitude is widespread in many parts of the American church.

So I guess I have a question: can Christians associate regularly with each other in a non-hierarchical way? Could Christians form cohousing communities in which every decision was reached by mutual consensus? Or are we doomed to be forever looking for popes to rule us? Will we always be easy prey for would-be religious empire-builders? I'd like to think we can get beyond that. (By the way, I'm not protesting the Biblical prescription for leadership in the Church. But I am protesting the obsession many wanna-be leaders have for trying to establish a pecking order in every situation where Christians come together.)

I ran across a Wikipedia article describing an encouraging example of a community that seemed to get beyond that. According to the article, “Clarence Jordan was a Baptist scholar and theologian who founded Koinonia Farm, a small but influential religious community in Southwest Georgia” in 1942. Koinonia was a radical community whose members regarded each other as equals, shared possessions, and practiced ecological stewardship. They were also racially mixed, which swiftly brought them into conflict with their neighbors, including the KKK. From Koinonia Farm arose organizations like Habitat for Humanity.

Mr. Jordan is an intriguing character, and I intend to find out a bit more about his life. One other thing about him is his “Cotton Patch Gospel” translation of the New Testament from Greek into early 20^th Century American English, Southern style. Check out his translation of Matthew 21:12-13: “Then Jesus went into First Church, pitched out the whole finance committee, tore up the investment and endowment records, and scrapped the long-range expansion plans. 'My house shall be known for its commitment to God,' he shouted, 'but you have turned it into a religious racket!'” I like the sound of that!

I checked out the small elderly church I wrote about in my last post. This weekend I think I will check out a Russian church. (Imagine that – a black man visiting a Russian church. And why? Because the American church seems so vacuous!) I know how to say good morning, good afternoon, good evening and farewell in Russian, but after that I'm lost. The week after next, I may attend Sunday service at the local rescue mission. (Why there? I'll explain in another post. I'll just say for now that I think I'd be more likely to meet the Lord among poor people than at a glitzy megachurch.) After that, I'll take a Sunday off to go on a long bike ride and do some thinking and evaluating.