Why I am a Christian (20)

Christian Fellowship Offers a Depth of Relationship I Have Not Enjoyed Elsewhere

In 2012 I jotted down all the reasons I could think of why I am a Christian. I found 26 so I decided to serialise them in a blog every fortnight for a year.

I have so far covered themes from the realms of science, philosophy and theology before looking at five different facets of Jesus (I could have explored many more). Then I looked at the inspiration, invincibility and influence of the Bible. This is the third of the last nine posts which are more personal and are based more on my experiences.

Every summer Kathie and I head off on holiday somewhere and we never fail to check out the nearest lively church to visit while we are away.

I suppose, being a church leader, I rarely get the opportunity to sit in the congregation and enjoy the service without feeling responsible if the preacher is a bit long (I always keep to time, believe me), or if the guitar is slightly out of tune (that could be mine to be fair) or if the projection of words onto the screen is distractingly slow. Or whatever... It’s a pleasant change when all that is someone else’s problem.

But what I love most about visiting other churches is that, wherever it might be on God’s Earth, and even though I probably don’t know a soul, I always feel like I am with my real family.

It doesn’t even matter if I can’t fully understand the language. I have worshipped with Japanese, Moroccan, Tamil, French and Filipino congregations and in each case I’ve barely understood a word. (I picked up French in the end but when we first moved to France, I was lost). 

No matter what the language might be, it hardly matters that the words are foreign to me. There is a language of heaven where mere vocabulary is secondary. There is a human connectedness in worship that goes deeper than the mind and the heart; it touches the soul of anyone who is alive to God through Jesus.

We used to sing a simple and delightful song when I was a church leader in France by Mady Ramos. I would love singing it because it articulates so guilelessly and so accurately what worshiping with other Christians feels like for me.

Moi, je suis dans la joie	I am so glad
Quand on me dit :	When people say to me:
‘Allons, allons à la maison de l'Éternel.’	‘Come on, let’s go to the house of the Lord.’
Là, sont réunis mes frères et mes amis,	This is where I find brothers, sisters, friends,
Tous les gens que j'aime,	All the people I love
Ceux qui me comprennent,	And who understand where I’m coming from.
C'est ici que je suis bien.	This is where I feel right.

I would sometimes look round at other members of the church as we sang it and the smiles on people’s faces assured me that I wasn’t alone in feeling that this is family. It’s where we can let the masks down, be ourselves and make mistakes in an atmosphere of love and acceptance. 

But I wonder. Isn’t this just a social phenomenon that works the same way in secular contexts? I know that people feel gladness and belonging when they meet up with friends in pubs and clubs. I do. I love the feeling of seeing people with whom I have a common interest.

Whenever I go to football matches it feels great to be part of a crowd cheering on my team and winding up the opposing fans. I love celebrating a goal or a penalty save – the feeling of elation, of solidarity, is thrilling. I love the banter with the opposing supporters as well. Singing “Is there a fire drill?” when my team go 4-0 up and they desert the stadium in disgust is a lot of fun.

But nothing compares with the strength of solidarity, the depth of friendship, the familial affection I have when I am with fellow believers. Everything else seems like a pale imitation.

I love it when someone becomes a Christian, or is baptized as an adult. In fact, few things bring me greater happiness. It is very similar of the birth of a baby. In a sense, that’s what it is. This is why Jesus described beginning a new life of Christian faith as being “born again.”

When people come to Christ, they are born into a family of brothers and sisters. Any church anywhere in the world is a gathering of spiritual siblings. You can travel to any part of the world and there you will find believers in Jesus Christ who know what you mean when you celebrate his greatness or lament over the things that grieve him. There is an amazing connection between Christians even before meeting up.

Of course, brothers and sisters sometimes fall out. Church members fall out as well sometimes. But they remain brothers and sisters. That’s one of the reasons Christians celebrate Holy Communion. When I partake of the Lord’s Supper, it is a reminder of the essential unity before God with my brothers and sisters. This is where we bury our pride, forgive one another, renew our love for each other and for Christ. There is a bond, a connection, a unity which transcends language, culture, tradition and experience.

We, who are many, are one body, for we all partake of the one loaf (1 Corinthians 10.17).

I used to think that Christians were weird. When I was at Sixth Form College, I thought they were way too intense. I couldn’t understand why they would enjoy meeting together as a Christian Union and do boring things like study the Bible and sing songs seated in a circle. I felt a bit sorry for them, like they were a self-help group for born losers.

But after I became a Christian, I went to one of their meetings. I discovered that they were all quite normal. In fact, I found mostly that they were wonderful people with amazing stories to tell. I found that I could completely relate to them. I began to look forward to Christian Union meetings more than anything else in the week.

The New Testament has a word for the kind of close friendship that Christians live out and enjoy.

It’s usually translated “fellowship” or “life together.” In fact, the word is translated from the Greek koinonia which has many meanings and no single English word adequately express its range or depth. It comes from a word meaning “mutual” but it carries the sense of relationship, of joint participation in something with someone, of community, of sharing and even intimacy.

In Acts 2.44 and 45 it says: “All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need.”

John Stott in his commentary on Acts describes these verses as “disturbing.” Maybe they are but I think there’s something about the renunciation of possessiveness that is liberating and exhilarating.

When I was at Bible College in 1988 we gave away our much loved Citroen 2CV to a poor and hungry fellow student. His need was greater than ours and God had already provided us with the funds for the larger model we needed for our expanding family.

In 2008, about 6 months before we left Paris, a member in my church came up to me and said, “We’re getting a new car. Would you like our old Mercedes!? You can sell it when you leave for England. We want to bless you.” So you plant a Deux Chevaux and 20 years later you reap a Merc! It was not a brand new model but we felt like royalty driving around in it!

I mention this just to make the point that they are not isolated incidents. Because of the love there is between believers in Christ I have discovered that it is not all that rare for Christians to voluntarily give away books, washing machines, furniture, cars, even property – you name it – when they could have sold them and kept the money. I find that many Christians are incredibly generous.

I’ve known Christians struggling to pay their bills checking the mail and finding anonymously posted envelopes full of banknotes. And, given the nature of the thing, I’m sure there’s a lot that goes on that no one ever hears about. I just love being a member of God's people.

No wonder pagan observers of the first Christians are recorded to have said, “Look, how they love one another and how they are ready to die for each other.”

Especially in the West, people can sometimes fall into the trap of imagining that being a Christian is just “me and Jesus.” But there are 44 different “one another’s” in the New Testament. The church is a group of people who are commanded to love one other, forgive one another, mutually encourage one another, spur one another on, carry each other’s burdens, accept one another, hold one another accountable, admonish one another, build one another up, bear with each other and so on.

There is virtually nothing in the New Testament about self-fulfilment. Christians are not voluntary members of a special interest club, still less a motley aggregate of individuals with private beliefs. Christians are citizens of a new community.

The Christian community is one in which my fellow believers and I can talk about things that really matter in our lives. When Christian community works like it is designed to – koinonia – people get real. That’s when people can ask me and I them “How are you really?”

It is a depth of authentic friendship I have not experienced anywhere else – even amongst my own family members who are not Christians. 

That’s the 20^th reason I am a Christian. It’s special belonging to the biggest, happiest, craziest, most diverse family in the world. It’s my real family and the key to my true identity; a child of God with brothers and sisters as numerous as the grains of sand on the shore and the stars in the sky.