Spiritual formation occurs primarily in the context of community. Persons who remain connected with their brothers and sisters in the local church almost invariably grow in self-understanding. And they mature in their ability to relate in healthy ways to God and to fellow human beings. This is especially the case for those courageous Christians who stick it out through the messy process of interpersonal conflict. Long-term relationships are the crucible of genuine progress in the Christian life. People who stay grow.
People who leave do not grow. We all know persons consumed with spiritual wanderlust. We never get to know them well because they cannot seem to stay put. They move from church to church, avoiding conflict or ever searching for a congregation that will better satisfy their felt needs. Like trees repeatedly transplanted from soil to soil, these spiritual nomads fail to put down roots, and they seldom experience lasting, fruitful growth in their Christian lives.
Hellerman calls for a return to the New Testament conviction that the good of the group comes before the personal interests of the individual. He says this is counter-cultural in the era that gave us James Cameron’s Titanic:
To illustrate a key difference between ancient and modern family systems, let us think about a popular film from a decade or so ago, the blockbuster Titanic.
Rose is a high-society girl engaged to be married to an arrogant, distasteful fellow for whom she feels no affection. In a memorable scene, Rose's mother reminds her that the arranged marriage is in the best interest of her family. It seems that Rose's father died after squandering his fortune, so for Rose's mother and her family, the impending marriage represents the only hope of maintaining their wealth and preserving their social status. Rose has been set up with a man she detests in order to guarantee an honorable future for the group, her extended family.
But then one evening Rose meets a street kid named Jack on the deck of the ship, and the encounter ignites a romantic fling that serves as the film's main storyline. Rose loves Jack. But she is engaged to a highly unappealing man whom she is obligated to marry for the sake of her family. Whom will Rose choose?
Jack, of course. If Rose had chosen otherwise, the film simply would not have worked for the tens of millions of North American viewers who followed the tragic tale. We are quite unmoved by the potential social dilemma confronting Rose's extended family. Our sympathies lie, rather, with the heroine's personal satisfaction. As I watched Titanic, I could almost hear the thoughts of the audience: Forget your family's fortune, Rose! Ignore your mother's wishes! Dump the rich jerk! Follow your heart! Go after Jack!
If Titanic were shown in first-century Israel, the audience would be utterly appalled that Rose would even consider sacrificing the good of her extended family for her relational satisfaction. They would find Rose's fling with Jack risky and foolish. First-century Jews and Christians alike would expect Rose to marry the rich fellow, if such an arrangement could somehow preserve the honor and social status of her extended family.
I saw the radical individualism in Rose’s choice when Titanic first came out. But I don’t think the alternative to her selfishness was to yield in misery to her mother’s materialistic expectations—expectations that were rooted in a desire to stay at an economic and social level the mother had been accustomed to.
In fact, the film would have been far more interesting had Rose’s fiance been merely dull instead of cruel. Had Titanic given Rose a choice between adventure with Jack or dutiful obligation with her fiance, the audience would have had more to struggle with. We may have still found our sympathies with her, but the dilemma between personal fulfillment and family duty would have be sharper.
And that, I think, is a better illustration of the choice most church-goers face: they hop churches not because they find their current one spiritually toxic but because they’ve started to regard it as personally dull. That’s where Hellerman’s article can offer some substantive challenge. Read the whole thing.
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