FOOD. FUN. FELLOWSHIP. To judge by many typical announcements of church activities, you’d think these were the essence of Christian community. But are they? Don’t get me wrong; I’m all for food and fun. I have to admit, though, that this is sometimes when the curmudgeon in me comes out.

Privately, for example, we may struggle with our health and eating habits. But when we come together for a church potluck, we bring things that our various diet plans tag as verboten. After all, doesn’t eating healthily seem to be the opposite of “fun”? And we may already have learned from experience that if we come to the potluck with something that looks too healthy — Oh, no, it’s got green stuff in it! — almost no one will eat it.

At least, not when it’s sitting next to the bacon and brownies.

Still, there’s nothing wrong with food and fun. And of course, I’m all for fellowship. I imagine that those three things have gone together in every culture throughout history. Food is a taken-for-granted part of celebration and hospitality, a way to pull people together and enjoy one another’s company. Plan a party, plan a menu — everything from a birthday cake or Super Bowl nachos to a full Thanksgiving feast.

The question is — and here comes Mr. Curmudgeon again — how much of what we call “fellowship” is actually just food and fun and not much else? In our congregations and gatherings, what is this thing called “fellowship,” beyond the food and fun?

JOHN, AS WE’VE seen, is writing a letter to correct some false teaching that’s arisen in the church and is causing division and leading people astray. His tone is authoritative, drawing on his apostolic credentials and the strength of eyewitness testimony. But it is also loving, inviting his readers into fellowship:

We proclaim to you what we have seen and heard, so that you also may have fellowship with us. And our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ. We write this to make our joy complete. (1 John 1:3-4, NIV)

But again, what kind of “fellowship” is this? Here, John uses the Greek word koinonia, which at root suggests those who share something in common. I’m reminded here of that famous passage from the book of Acts that describes what many take as the example for true Christian community:

They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe at the many wonders and signs performed by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved. (Acts 2:42-47)

Luke uses the related words for “fellowship” (again, koinonia in the Greek) and “in common” (koinos) to describe the infant church founded by the apostles in Jerusalem. For the most part, these were Jewish believers, who already had a strong sense of the importance of family loyalty and community. What changed was their understanding of who counted as family. They were newly bonded by their shared belief in Jesus as their Messiah, and more importantly, the presence of the Holy Spirit. Because of Jesus and through the Spirit, they had become a new family.

Some of us may read Acts 2, sigh, and wonder when the church lost its way, lamenting the state of our own congregations. But don’t forget: we can see the seeds of strife and division being sown even from the earliest chapters of Acts. Indeed, that’s why the New Testament letters even exist, including the letters of John. It didn’t take long for dissension and conflict to become a regular feature of church life — so much so that the apostles had to respond in writing, firmly and pastorally.

MAINSTREAM AMERICAN CULTURE is strongly individualistic in a way that we take for granted but the Jewish believers of the first century would have found puzzling. And such individualistic values shape the way we understand “community” and what we expect of our congregations and this nebulous thing we call “fellowship.”

Often, joining a church is less like being adopted into a family than it is becoming a member of a club or any other volunteer association founded on common interests. If someone in your family offends you, there’s at least some expectation of loyalty and common identity that would motivate you to work it out. It’s much easier to bail on a club if someone rubs us the wrong way.

So: in which of these ways do we treat church membership?

I’m not suggesting that once you join a local congregation you’re obligated to stay no matter what. I am saying, however, that part of the reason we leave is because our understanding of fellowship or community, and what it entails for our involvement, is too individualistic and a far cry from the culture of the Bible.

IT’S IMPORTANT, THEREFORE, to remember that John is not simply being a doctrinal policeman. He’s not a quality control inspector, running around with a theological clipboard looking for where things are out of alignment. He doesn’t say, “We proclaim to you what we have seen and heard so that you’ll stop spouting nonsense,” or “so that you’ll toe the line,” or “so that you’ll get with the program.” He writes for the sake of fellowship: first, the fellowship of believers with each other, but second and more astonishingly, with God the Father and Jesus his Son.

Think back to a metaphor I used in the previous post. The gift of eternal life is not merely something that is delivered to us individually, a package I take into my house. Nor is the church, therefore, merely a gathering of people who have all received similar deliveries. No, flip it around: life isn’t just about what we receive, but what we are drawn into. We have fellowship with each other, because by the Holy Spirit, we are drawn into the fellowship between Father and Son.

That doesn’t necessarily exclude bacon and brownies. I just wonder: what might change if we thought of fellowship that way?