Called to Community. Thomas Merton
had everything in common.” This is the Luke who had recorded these words from the lips of Jesus: “Every one of you who does not renounce all he has cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14:33). . . .
Let it be well noted that this last verse cited is concerned with the simple fact of being disciples of Christ, and not of some “special vocation” or other. See the beginning of the passage: “Many crowds accompanied him, and he, turning, said to them . . . ” (Luke 14:25). He is not addressing the Twelve, but the crowd. It is a simple matter of the conditions for being a Christian, exactly as in the texts we cited in Acts. What is optional is to be a Christian, to be a disciple of Christ. ◆
Helmut Gollwitzer
We should not in the very least weaken Luke’s text. The commentaries of some New Testament scholars make the meaning quite clear, while others try to smooth it away. They say, for instance: It turned out very badly for the first church in Jerusalem, what they did there. The hasty distribution of the little bit of property they had eventually resulted in their having nothing at all. Then among all the Christians of that time they were called “the poor of Jerusalem,” and a collection had to be made for their support.
All right, Luke might have said, perhaps in their enthusiasm they did not do it very cleverly. Then you do it better, more effectively. Think out a communism in which one does not become poor but through which all people are really helped! Enthusiasm must also include some common sense.
Other commentaries say, and probably we too: Yes, that was a voluntary communism, a communism of love, not a horrible communism of force like we saw in the Soviet Bloc!
Quite right, says Luke, so show me your free-willingness. Where is your communism of love? Perhaps it has come to this forced communism because the hungry people have waited in vain for two thousand years for the Christians’ communism of love!
Others argue along a different set of lines, claiming that it is not the abolition of private property that concerns Luke but rather an inner freedom from possessions.
True, Luke might say, they may have retained title deeds over the disposal of their property, as the historians claim. But what belonged to them they put at the disposal of the church with the one goal, as it says here, that none among them went short. So keep the titles to your private property, but come along with what belongs to you, with the one goal – that no one among us suffers need! . . .
What, then, is the result of taking seriously Luke’s nice, edifying account of this time of first love? The whole thing is beyond us, people say. It may have been possible in their small circles at that time, first in Jerusalem, then in Corinth and Philippi, that no one was in need. That was a shining sign of the resurrection, and others pointed to it and said, “See how they love one another; no one suffers need among them!” But today, when we can’t help seeing the millionfold need of humankind, it is no longer possible.
This can only mean one thing: becoming a Christian today is beyond us. Tasks come in from all sides and we see our feeble strength and vanishing means, our egotism and the fetters of private property, and don’t know how to go on. We can understand why today many Christians suggest one should understand the gospel altogether differently, that one should not apply it to social relationships, but only to community with God and the consolation of the forgiveness of sins.
Oh, yes! The consolation of the forgiveness of sins is very important, especially when we notice in such an account that our sins consist not only of personal thoughts and deeds in opposition to God, but also our involvement in the public sins of this order of death. This terrible social order, which in reality is a disorder, has had from the very beginning the slogan, “That belongs to me!” The possessors defend their possessions against those who have less or nothing at all.
Here we are ensnared, and none of us can get out because we have to take care of ourselves, our families, and our old age. How can we escape this appalling, sinful social order? When we think about this, how can we still laugh and enjoy our gardens? How can we drink our coffee at breakfast when we know that it is offered to us at a reasonable price through the infamous policies of our governments, at the expense of the hungry in coffee-producing countries? In such blind alleys, the consolation of the forgiveness of sins is certainly necessary. But forgiveness of sins can never mean, “Carry on just as before.” The same goes for the individual sins for which we need forgiveness – the promise of forgiveness is always at the same time both comfort and thorn. This thorn says: demand freedom, try freedom, at least begin to seek freedom, simply refuse to cooperate! This thorn, this thorny question, asks: What can we do so that everything does not simply go on as before? This thorny question sinks right into our hearts through Luke’s report. . . .
“They had all things in common, and distribution was made to each as any had need, and there was not a needy person among them.” The praising of God and the sharing of possessions, the Lord’s Supper and the common table, the vertical and the horizontal – a complete life – is present in the true resurrection church. And the horizontal is the manifestation of what happens, concealed, in the vertical. The horizontal – our relationship with others – is the test of the genuineness of the vertical – our relationship with God.
It is all one freedom: the freedom of rejoicing in God, our freedom toward other people, and the freedom never to say, “That belongs to me.” We have been promised such freedom, which is the answer to our longing for a fellowship in which “ours” belongs to everyone, no one suffers need, and we are there for the others in a meaningful life.
Therefore we pray, Lord, lead us into this real, practical life of resurrection. Break the fetters and make us free for a new life! ◆
8
A Visible Reality
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Dietrich Bonhoeffer
A truth, a doctrine, or a religion needs no space for itself. They are disembodied entities. They are heard, learned, and apprehended, and that is all. But the incarnate Son of God needs not only ears or hearts, but living people who will follow him. That is why he called his disciples into a literal, bodily following, and thus made his fellowship with them a visible reality. That fellowship was founded and sustained by Jesus Christ, the incarnate Lord himself. It was the Word made flesh which had called them and created their bodily fellowship with him. Having been called, they could no longer remain in obscurity, for they were the light that must shine, the city set on the hill, which must be seen.
Their fellowship with him was visibly overshadowed by the cross and passion of Jesus Christ. In order that they might enjoy that fellowship with him, the disciples must leave everything else behind and submit to suffering and persecution. Yet even in the midst of their persecutions they receive back all they had lost in visible form – brothers, sisters, fields, and houses in his fellowship, the church consisting of Christ’s followers manifest to the whole world as a visible community. Here were bodies that acted, worked, and suffered in fellowship with Jesus. . . .
The fellowship between Jesus and his disciples covered every aspect of their daily life. Within the fellowship of Christ’s disciples the life of each individual was part of the life of the brotherhood. This common life bears living testimony to the concrete humanity of the Son of God. The bodily presence of God demands that for him and with him we should stake our own lives in our daily existence. With all the concreteness of our bodily existence, we belong to him who for our sake took upon himself the human body. In the Christian life the individual disciple and the body of Jesus belong inseparably together.
All this is confirmed in the earliest record of the life of the church in the Acts of the Apostles (Acts 2:42–47; 4:32–37). “They continued steadfastly in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread and the prayers.” “They that believed were of one heart and soul and . . . had all things in common.” It is instructive to note that fellowship is mentioned between Word and Sacrament. This is no accident, for fellowship always springs from the Word and finds its goal and completion in the Lord’s Supper. The whole common life of the Christian fellowship oscillates between Word and Sacrament, it begins and ends in worship. It looks forward in expectation