In August of 2017, my husband and I went to Maui, our first time in
Hawaii--to celebrate our thirtieth wedding anniversary. In one of the towns we visited (Lahaina), there is a Banyan tree that
is over 100 years old. It grows in a unique way, producing roots that spread
out and sprout up into new trunks—all connected to the one original trunk; so
this “tree”—which appears to be a host of trees—takes up a full city block.
It truly was incredible to see—and it got me to thinking about how this tree is a picture of the Body of Christ, as it demonstrates the
concept of community. Community is harder to develop than it is to define; it's something that doesn't happen by osmosis. It takes time, willingness, and ongoing investment for a healthy environment of community to thrive. Like the Banyan, we need the support of other "trunks" (people) to lift us up and assist us in our weak areas and times of great need.
Our pastor likes to ask us (the congregation) from time to
time, “How many churches are there in Salem?” The correct response from us is
“one.” We are all one body—different expressions but all part of the same Body
of Christ. In looking at the Banyan, the trunks that are farthest removed from
the main trunk could be seen as churches that—though they are connected to the
body (local church) one is a part of—are not necessarily well-known to us. It’s
likely that our churches don’t really cross paths; or we as diverse believers
tend to find ourselves in different circles, perhaps intersecting occasionally
at community events or conferences. We are all “trunks” on the perimeter for
the most part, as denominations and styles tend to go. But we’re still
connected to the main Source trunk—Christ.
So what is community really? Howard Macy, author and Professor Emeritus at George
Fox University, describes it this way: "Christian
community is simply sharing a common life in Christ. It moves us beyond the
self-interested isolation of private lives and beyond the superficial social
contacts that pass for "Christian fellowship." The biblical ideal of
community challenges us instead to commit ourselves to life together as the
people of God." Life together. Did you catch that? To me, that means that no one is an island. No one is able to just slip through the cracks. There is a communal sense of caring, of being connected to all the other members. While each individual need not know everything going on in everyone else's life, a community shares the big things--they celebrate new jobs, new babies, new victories--together. And they grieve the loss of loved ones, financial crises, disappointments--together. Not just in word, but in deed. There is a reaching out, an embracing that takes place--those who are part of this kind of community know that they are loved; and they feel supported.
To be one who practices community requires maturity, which takes time. It calls upon us to step outside ourselves and our own everyday concerns and be brothers and sisters to one another. Howard Macy writes: "It’s a process that is revealed in
the "each other" language of the New Testament: Love one another,
forgive each other, regard each other more highly than yourselves. Teach and
correct each other, encourage each other, pray for each other, and bear each
other’s burdens. Be friends with one another, kind, compassionate, and generous
in hospitality. Serve one another and submit to one another out of reverence
for Christ. This list just scratches the surface, but it is enough to remind us
that we need the community of faith to grow up in Christ." That's a tall order! If one section of the Banyan's roots were to stop providing nourishment, the whole tree would be in jeopardy. So it is in a human community.
Perhaps the very encouraging word you need to give to sister Martha is going to motivate her to share what the Lord has put on her heart to do for someone else. And perhaps that person, without that timely word, is going to become depressed and self-isolate--thinking that others don't care. Yes, we all have our own responsibility to care for ourselves and seek the highest good; but what we do--and what we may neglect to do--matters greatly. That is why God designed us to live life together, in community.
I believe people are looking for community. If they can't find it in the church, they will go outside the church. If ministry boxes are drawn too tightly, those who have needs that are not being met inside the boxes or who see that others have needs will either join together or be community-less. Structure isn't always--but can be the enemy of community. Structure isn't bad, so long as it serves a common purpose.
I saw many different types of people in Maui, gathered underneath the broad shady areas of the Banyan tree. Some were just reading. Some were visiting, some were playing with their children, and still others were taking pictures. There was something for everyone. Everyone found a place and an element of relaxation or fun. My point? Ministry opportunities shouldn't become so narrow that some people "don't fit." If we say we want community, we have to be careful that we don't push out those with a heart for community by limiting options and administrating them down to a "well-oiled machine," rather than the life and growth a true community provides.
The Banyan is something one has to look at with awe and wonder. It's an interconnected, extended, growing organism. Is that what others see when they look at my church? Your church? Do we just see each other, and even mingle a little, on Sundays--or are we drawing life in abundance from our interconnectedness that is continually present?
The Banyan is a marvel, a thing of beauty. I will forever be grateful to have witnessed it--in all its twists, nooks, and intricacies. And isn't that the Body of Christ? We're all "twisted" in one way or another, intricately designed by our Creator to be unique, and somehow we can all fit together, finding our individual areas in which to thrive--giving that combined life to all the other members. In community, we all benefit. Some are not left in "the desert." All travel together; and all are better for it.
Can we, like the Banyan, grow old in community--with new parts being added so that the blending is virtually seamless? Is it possible? I pray that it is. May we be rooted and grounded in love so that all who see us know immediately that we are a community--because of how we love each other.
