Life in Common
Biblical scholars believe that the book we call the Acts of the Apostles, or simply Acts, was written by the author of Luke toward the end of the first century. Since it covers the period of time following the ascension of Jesus decades before, this is very much a retrospective view on the earliest days of the Christian church.
And it’s a view that presents the events as being part of a golden age of the church, “pure and perfect in its infancy,” at a time of “perfect harmony in the Christian community.” (Walaskay, 47) It seems that what stands out to people in this passage, though, is the bit about the apostles holding all things in common. Not only that, but they sold unnecessary possessions and gave the proceedings to those in need.
And in my experience, we tend to get hung up on that sharing of possessions bit. I’ve heard people who have no problem at all with the idea of laying down one’s life for another (at least in the abstract), balk at the idea of such sharing. This despite the fact that doing without extra to benefit someone else is, for many of us, the greatest opportunity we have to lay down our life for someone else.
Nonetheless, this concept of holding things in common seems critical to the foundling fellowship of Jesus-followers. It’s mentioned again in Acts 4, and in Acts 5, a couple of folks who hold some things back for themselves are, for lack of a better term, smited. So the common good and taking care of those in need was clearly important.
I like how Willie James Jennings describes it: “A new kind of giving is exposed at this moment, one that binds bodies together as the first reciprocal donation where the followers will give themselves to one another. The possessions will follow. What was at stake here was not the giving up of all possessions but the giving up of each one, one by one as the Spirit gave direction, and as the ministry of Jesus made demand.” (Jennings, 39) Far from elevating stuff to the honored position it holds in our culture, this points out that the apostles saw their possessions as extensions of their selves. If their bodies were bound together, it wasn’t a reach to include their things.
Jennings also points out the role the Holy Spirit played in the sharing that took place. That is where Luke seems to focus credit for the early church in its golden age, as is apparent in his writing. Mark Alan Powell writes that “one of Luke’s favorite words is the simple Greek term dei, which means ‘it is necessary’; he uses this word repeatedly to indicate that things must happen because God has willed them to happen.” (Powell, 372)
Thus solidarity and communion are part of the kin-dom, and God’s Spirit ensures that individualism and selfishness do not triumph. Instead, “time, talent, and treasures, the trinity of possessions we know so well [according to Jennings], would feel the pull of this holy vortex.” (Jennings, 39) In short, those in the early church were intertwined with one another.
Sadly, nearly two millennia after this example of sharing from Acts was recorded, we’re still falling short when it comes to being sure everyone’s needs are met. This is true even in our country, the most affluent in the world. “In the United States, a larger share of people between the ages of eighteen and sixty-five live in poverty than in any other of the thirty-eight countries belonging to the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development. . . . One-third of Americans live below the poverty line, [even] as the majority below the poverty line are working hard and often hold down more than one job. [And] 26.5 percent of American families with children are food insecure, which means they do not have enough to eat even though they go to work every day.” (Rieger, 105)
Within the same national borders, there are those who have elevators for their cars, toilets made of gold, helicopters that help shave a few minutes off their commutes, and jewelry costing more than the annual grocery budget of some families. And yet many of those with car elevators, helicopters, and expensive jewelry pay less in taxes than those who struggle to make ends meet. The affluent control the system, and exert undue influence over those who are supposed to represent all of us.
Sometimes those in the lower classes are thrown a bone, either through modest tax breaks (which are typically accompanied by much more significant tax breaks for the affluent), or through other contributions that offer temporary relief but no systemic change. Indeed, “it is not hard for the dominant powers to be inclusive and hospitable when they own the house where hospitality is to be offered, they oversee the system in which minorities are to be included, and they function as gatekeepers.” (Rieger, 153)
We’re conditioned to be grateful for such handouts, and they are often distributed in a fashion that turns us against one another. This leads to a scarcity mindset; the idea that there is not enough for everyone, so we must compete for resources.
Thus people of faith in our place and time find ourselves in a similar situation to that of our spiritual ancestors who lived under Roman occupation. They found a way to overcome their fear of not having enough; could the same be true for us?
Perhaps a step in that direction is realizing that what is best for our neighbor is also best for ourselves. As Joerg Rieger writes, “even Jesus’s commandment to love one’s neighbor as oneself concedes self-interest, and self-interest becomes more relevant when it is understood that the interest of the neighbor and the interest of the self are linked.” (Rieger, 168)
Those in power will always attempt to keep the rest of us in line by pitting us against one another while cultivating fear and hatred. The Holy Spirit draws us in a different direction. Certainly more just economic policy is an ongoing pursuit of Jesus-followers, especially considering that “unequal distribution of wealth and power is directly linked to the exploitation of working people and the planet.” (Rieger, 183) So people of faith pursue justice in policy and practice.
But Jennings writes that “What is far more dangerous than any plan of shared wealth or fair distribution of goods and services is a God who dares impose on us divine love. Such love will not play fair. In the moment we think something is ours, or our people’s, that same God will demand we sell it, give it away, or offer more of it in order to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, or shelter the homeless, using it to create the bonds of shared life.” (Jennings, 40)
A community that lives for the greater good, the creation of which seems like an impossible undertaking, does not happen all at once. It is built one step at a time. Each instance of giving is a victory. As fallible humans, it’s unlikely we can bring it about without help, though. Thankfully, that help is forthcoming, exemplified by the life of Jesus and infused in us by the third member of the Trinity. As Jennings puts it, “the real questions are not whether this holy communalism, this sacred sociality, could or would be operative, be practical in this ancient world or any world, but what must it have been like to feel the powerful pull of the life of our savior, and what energy did it take to resist the Holy Spirit, to slow down this pull enough to withhold themselves and their possessions from divine desire.” (Jennings, 39)
Acts gives several accountings of how the Holy Spirit was alive in the early church. Today’s passage says wonders and signs were being done. Possessions were held in common, and money was given to those in need. The expanding community was filled with gladness, simplicity, praise, and gratitude.
And if you look closely, Luke makes clear that “this was no human undertaking.” (Walaskay, 47) For instance, he reports that “day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.” Jennings writes that “Luke gives us sight of a holy wind blowing through structured and settled ways of living and possessing and pulling things apart. People caught up in the love of God not only began to give thanks for their daily bread, but daily offered to God whatever they had that might speak that gracious love to others.” (Jennings, 40)
And as I mentioned before, it’s an idyllic view that fails to mention some of their struggles. As Powell writes, “the story of the church in Acts is one of success, victory, growth, and triumph. We hear next to nothing about missions that fail, people who aren’t healed, or prayers that aren’t answered. Controversies are quickly resolved, and everything always seems to work out for the best.” (Powell, 365) “Luke is not telling the whole story. He says nothing, for instance, about the schisms in the church of Corinth or the false teachers in Galatia — problems that we know about from Paul’s letters.” (Powell, 392–393)
So I’m grateful for the story of the early church in Acts, but I’m also grateful for reports of internal struggles recorded by other members of that community, like Paul. I’ve never been a part of any organization comprised of humans that didn’t eventually experience disharmony of some sort, so knowing that they did at that time actually gives me hope, because they were able to move past it and spread the teachings of Jesus far and wide.
Powell builds on that message of hope when he writes that “sometimes miracles do happen. Sometimes prayers are answered, heroes are rescued, pagans are kind, martyrs die bravely, and people of faith turn the world upside down.” (Powell, 393)
Speaking of fledgling fellowships of Jesus-followers, that’s where we find ourselves as Intertwined. Maybe we’re living through what we’ll one day consider our golden age. Where is the Spirit in our time “blowing through structured and settled ways of living and possessing and pulling things apart?” (Jennings, 40) How can we play a role in turning the world upside down?
Paul Walasky writes that “there is a longing deep inside each of us for a place of perfect peace and harmony.” (Walaskay, 47) Thus we yearn for a day when the kin-dom is fully realized and all is reconciled. But in the meantime, how do we catch glimpses of that kin-dom? How do we bring them about?
I hope Intertwined offers you a space to explore such questions and, more importantly, how to make the answers a reality. We’re fortunate to have support from individuals and organizations who believe in the concept of what we’re doing. Despite that, we’re not encumbered by many of the burdens that are faced by most faith communities. We have no building to pay for, and no outdated traditions to which we must adhere. Thus we have a great deal of space in which to work, deconstructing and reconstructing while challenging the dominant narrative of what a Christian community is supposed to look like.
How can Intertwined help meet the needs of our neighbors? How can we offer a life-giving place for every participant? How can we practice generosity, gladness, simplicity, praise, and gratitude together? Every one of us has the opportunity to help form Intertwined into what we think it should be.
We are intertwined with the divine, with one another, and with the rest of creation. I’m grateful to those of you who have been a part of our community thus far, and I look forward to continuing to grow together with you and any other sojourners who join us along the way.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
Works Referenced
Cleghorn, John. Resurrecting Church: Where Justice and Diversity Meet Radical Welcome and Healing Hope. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2021.
Dinkler, Michal Beth. “Acts.” In Fortress Commentary on the Bible: The Old Testament and Apocrypha, edited by Gale A. Yee, Hugh R. Page, Jr., Matthew J. M. Coomber. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2014. Kindle edition.
Gafney, Wilda C. A Women’s Lectionary for the Whole Church, Year W. New York City: Church Publishing, 2021.
Jennings, Willie James. Acts. BELIEF: A Theological Commentary on the Bible series edited by Amy Plantinga Paul and William C. Placher. Louisville, Kentucky: Westminster John Knox Press, 2017.
Powell, Mark Allen. Introducing the New Testament: A Historical, Literary, and Theological Survey. Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Academic, 2018, Kindle edition.
Rieger, Joerg. Theology in the Capitalocene: Ecology, Identity, Class, and Solidarity. (Dispatches, edited by Ashley John Moyse and Scott A. Kirkland.) Minneapolis, Minnesota: Fortress Press, 2022, Kindle edition.
Walaskay, Paul W. Acts. Westminster Bible Companion series edited by Patrick D. Miller and David L. Bartlett. Louisville, Kentucky: Westminster John Knox Press, 1998.
