The desire for community often leads Christians astray because our picture is distorted. What does community look like? A Google image search for “community” returns the same image again and again: people standing in a circle, arms around each other, faces turned inward. Even adding “Christian community” doesn’t change much—only now some are praying.
Often, this becomes our perfect picture: find a group of friends, grow in depth, share life together… and never have to do it again. But a close circle quickly becomes a closed circle. This may be community, but it is not Christian community. One distinctive of Christian community is that it eagerly welcomes new people.
The Challenge of Christian Community
Jesus’ disciples knew what it meant to have a close circle. For three years they walked with Him, ministering side by side, building the kind of community most of us dream of. After His resurrection, they might have thought their group was safe again. But then Jesus said, “I’m leaving, and I want you to leave too. Go to the ends of the earth” (Matt. 28:18–20). The circle wasn’t meant to stay sealed; it was meant to break open.
The book of Acts describes this new reality: “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread, and to prayer… Every day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved” (Acts 2:42, 47). Historian Rodney Stark observes that Christianity created a culture that offered, “to cities filled with newcomers and strangers…an immediate basis for attachments.”[1]
No longer a small, tight group—new people were added every day. That can sound exciting: revival, growth, answered prayers. But imagine if that happened in your church or small group. A group of 12 gains a new person on Monday, but by the end of the week, dynamics have shifted. It doesn’t even feel like the same group anymore.
This tension presses on every church. Do we really want the 40 million people who have stopped coming to church to return? Would we welcome them—not just through our doors, but into our lives? If this is our calling, a distinctive mark of Christian community, what can help us become this kind of people?
Remember God’s Heart
Paul exhorts, “Welcome one another, just as Christ also welcomed you, to the glory of God” (Rom. 15:7). God’s heart is not for an exclusive club. Jesus came “to seek and save the lost” (Luke 19:10). He has always been gathering a people to Himself, a Father eager to expand His family.
Think of parents who long to grow their family. When they learn of a new pregnancy, they rejoice, announce it, celebrate with gifts and photos. That desire and joy, multiplied infinitely, reflects God’s heart for adding people to His family—our neighbors, co-workers, cities, and families. The question for us is simple: Do I share God’s heart?
Remember How God Welcomed Us
Paul says:
Brothers and sisters, consider your calling: Not many were wise from a human perspective, not many powerful, not many of noble birth. Instead, God has chosen what is foolish in the world to shame the wise, and God has chosen what is weak in the world to shame the strong. God has chosen what is insignificant and despised in the world—what is viewed as nothing—to bring to nothing what is viewed as something, so that no one may boast in His presence. It is from Him that you are in Christ Jesus, who became wisdom from God for us—our righteousness, sanctification, and redemption (1 Cor. 1:26–30).
He’s saying, “I want you to think about how God saved you and let that affect how you relate with others.” So let’s consider some of the ways God has welcomed us.
- Without Distinction
I remember talking to someone once who said, “I know there must be something so awesome about me that Jesus would die for me.” It’s actually the reverse. There’s something so bad about us that Jesus had to die for us. The point isn’t to be impressed with ourselves that God would pick us—it’s to be impressed with God.
God didn’t welcome us based on our intelligence, success, or family pedigree. He welcomed the overlooked, weak, and ordinary. He welcomed people from broken families, poverty, or scandal. He welcomed sinners of every stripe.
This means we don’t unite with others because we are alike. We unite because we share one Lord, one faith, one baptism, and one God and Father of all (Eph. 4:5–6).
- Deeply
God didn’t just forgive us; He adopts us. Paul says we are brothers and sisters and that we are “in Christ Jesus”.
He doesn’t just give you a second chance or wipe the slate clean; He brings us deeply into life with Him.
I tell our church all the time, “nobody is looking for a friendly church, but they are looking for friends.” If people want friendly, they can talk to the greeter at Walmart. We don’t just want to be friendly; we want to actually extend friendship.
That means inviting people into our lives: inviting people to your small group, meals after church, coffee on a Tuesday, playdates at the park, dinner, camping, etc. Think: when’s the last time you invited someone new into your life?
- Pursuit
God didn’t sit back and wait. He pursued us. The Spirit convicts not to condemn, but to draw us back. We have the same calling: to “pursue hospitality” (Rom. 12:13). Hospitality is not just hosting friends; it is the love of strangers. Pursuit requires intentionality, planning, and effort. It’s not optional or only for those “gifted with hospitality.” It’s a command and a continual pattern meant to shape our lives as a community. Are you actively pursuing others outside your circle?
Hard, but Beautiful
Open-circle community is beautiful, but not easy. Adding new people changes dynamics, complicates life, and challenges comfort and security. That’s why the epistles are filled with commands to be patient, make peace, love, forgive, and bear with one another. Welcoming others carries a cost—time, money, energy—but that cost reflects the gospel itself. Jesus bore the cost of welcoming us into God’s family. When we extend that welcome, we display His glory and reflect the good, gracious Father he is.
Let’s not let our desire for a perfect picture of community distract us from God’s heart. We are called to something distinct, reflecting not the images from sitcoms or stock photos, but the God who has welcomed each of us.
[1] Rodney Stark, The Rise of Christianity: A Sociologist Reconsiders History (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1996), 161.